Dream Boy
by Ravensara
Summary: A New York dream research facility creates a being who exists in reality with all of his dream abilities intact and decides to name him Peter.
1. Chapter 1

1

School resumed in less than two weeks and Macy McKenna was glum. It seemed as if the older her classmates grew, the less sociable they became. It had been years since she'd played with any boys her age. They'd been fun when she was younger, but then they all seemed to grow mean and far more crude. They didn't want to share their toys or invite her to their birthday parties any longer. When she did interact with them, they seemed wild and even somewhat dangerous, venturing into the realm of curse words and cigarettes, talking about drinking cough syrup and Listerine, casually tossing about inappropriate remarks about girls as if they had been intimate with a few already. Not that the girls she'd hung out with were much better. She had recently noticed how they, too, had begun to change in ways she found uncomfortable. She was suddenly chastised for picking up dolls and stuffed animals when she visited her female friends. They were totally disinterested in board games and electronic games anymore. Now they all seemed to prefer talking about boys, trying out new hairstyles, playing with cosmetics, and putting on fashion shows for each other after spending half the day at the mall.

It wasn't that Macy preferred "baby things", as her friends called them when they teased her, for she was certainly interested in the new privileges and responsibilities maturity brought—it was just that things seemed to be changing so quickly. It was as if the summer between grade school and junior high had marked some hurdle in life she had yet to clear, and her peers were dashing madly toward adulthood, leaving her far behind.

Her father didn't seem to think there was anything wrong with her. "You've always possessed a maturity far beyond your years," he'd told her affectionately on more than one occasion. "It's one of the things I've always loved about you."

And while such conversations were sweet, they did nothing to ease the angst she felt. How could she be mature beyond her years, but still haul a collection of plastic toys into the tub to play Lost Island with while she soaked?

Now she sulked atop a leather-clad ottoman in the living room, rock-n-roll blasting from the stereo while neighbor and schoolmate Valda worked on her hair. "I can't believe you've never worn your hair in a French braid," the slightly older girl said in her ear. "You can't wear pigtails forever."

Macy liked her hair in pigtails. She sometimes wore it in braids that hung alongside her ears. Now and then she parted her hair to the side instead of straight down the middle.

"You should get streaks! What's your favorite color?"

"Orange?"

"Orange would look stupid on you. Maybe we should chunk your hair."

"Chunk it?"

"Like mine," Valda told her, leaning closer from the edge of the seat behind her to run her fingers through her thick hair and shake it. "They're like streaks, but the colors are closer to your natural color. Highlights and lowlights."

The younger girl's hair was a light golden blonde. "What color would the highlights be? White?"

Valda playfully slapped her arm. "No, stupid. Like…lemon or sunlight or…maybe a pale ash blonde."

Macy couldn't imagine a hair color called ash blonde. What popped up in her mind was something dingy and unattractive.

"You have no depth to your 'do," Valda complained. Her own hair ranged in shade from a muted caramel to milk chocolate to cocoa. She wore it shaggy in choppy lengths just shy of her shoulders. "And when are you going to start wearing makeup? My God. You're so bland."

Macy didn't specifically like Valda, but at least she was a female who would talk to her. "I'm only thirteen."

"Right. So you wear a little pale pink lip gloss…maybe something with a little glitter in it. Some mascara—nothing too drastic." She leaned forward from the chair again to sniff the little blonde. "What perfume do you wear?"

She didn't wear perfume. She used the same Irish Spring to bathe with as her father, and washed her hair with the same shampoo. "What do you wear?" she asked.

"Oh, Macy. When will you grow up?" Valda lifted a pearlized plastic-handled mirror from her backpack so the younger girl could see herself. "Very chic. Very adult," she said.

The blonde didn't care for the contours of her head with her hair twisted and taut. Even when she wore only a single ponytail, she didn't mind a few wispy loose strands framing her face. "Huh," she commented.

The music ended and Valda looked at her watch. "Your dad should be home soon, shouldn't he?"

"Yeah."

"You're so lucky. I wish I had a dad that was hot."

"_Ew!"_ Macy turned to glare incredulously at the other girl.

"What? He is. You know it. And you're adopted anyway. So it's not like it's bad or anything."

"Really? I mean, like, _seriously?_ I can't believe you said that!"

The older girl shrugged as she slowly repacked her belongings. "I mean, he's old and all…but he's so distinguished-"

"Can we _not_ talk about my dad that way?"

"Your _adopted_ dad. Lucky girl. Anyway, you ready for the boys this year?"

Macy was unimpressed with their immature antics. "I…it depends-"

"On _what?_" Valda rose to retrieve her CD from the stereo. "Get 'em now while they're ripe for the pickin'! While they still have some little boy looks and are terrified of accidentally hurting you."

"Hurting me? Doing what?"

The older girl twisted a shoulder forward and affected a snotty tone. "Well, you _know_."

"I'm still thirteen!"

"Oh, I don't mean _that_," she said airily. "Don't…let them break your heart. You gotta learn how to use them and dump them before they get too comfortable with you. Break _their_ hearts. It makes them want you even more!"

"It sounds mean." Macy knew girls her age who were already changing out boyfriends as often as they painted their nails.

"It doesn't matter. We're just kids, right? When the right one comes along, you'll know it and you'll both be good for each other."

It sounded too easy and completely made up. "Valda-" They heard the distinctive sound of a vehicle mounting the sloped concrete driveway, the sound of the engine changing as it bounced off the garage door.

Valda grabbed her remaining loose items and zipped them into her bag, then straightened to smooth her clothing and fluff her hair while bent forward.

Macy blinked as she rose from the ottoman. "I don't think-"

The sixteen year old dug within a zippered pouch of her pack for a compact of lip gloss she smeared on thickly with the tip of her middle finger.

They heard keys in the lock and a door opening. Geoffery McKenna, tall, blond, with a handsomely sculpted face and lean, athletic figure dropped his keys on the kitchen counter and leaned a hand against it as if to steady himself, his eyes staring straight ahead but focused on nothing.

"Hey, Mr. McKenna," Valda cooed as she strode through the connector between living room and kitchen.

It took a moment for him to turn her way. He regarded her dully. "Hi…Valda." He sounded tired.

"You should go," Macy told the other girl from just behind her.

"How was work today?" The older teen had long, lean legs nicely tanned from a summer outdoors, and wore very short bright red shorts with a brief white embroidered top that exposed her middle.

"Goodbye, Valda," the younger girl said more firmly, then glanced her father's way to see if he'd say anything about her sounding rude.

"'bye," he murmured, distracted by something. He wiped a hand down his face and inhaled deeply, then turned enough to rest a fist on his hip.

"Oh, well, goodbye then." Valda cut her eyes Macy's way as if to relay something significant, but Mace didn't know what she wanted and merely gestured toward the kitchen door. "My stuff," the girl muttered, returning to the living room and exiting through the front door instead.

"Are you okay?" the younger McKenna queried, moving toward the elder.

"Uh, yeah. I'm good. Is there any tea in the refrigerator?"

"Sure," she answered, thinking it strange he didn't check for himself. "What happened? Did she turn you down?"

He turned his head slowly her way. "I didn't ask."

"Didn't the flowers arrive?"

"Oh, yeah, yeah." He pushed his keys around on the counter, then drew a chair back from the little table in the kitchen and sat. "She liked them. She thanked me for them…but…she got a new partner today."

"New…?" Macy set a tall glass of tea before him. "You mean…?"

"A new _Quasar_ partner," he said softly.


	2. Chapter 2

2

_Quasar_ was a shortened way of saying _quasi-reality_. Quasi-realities were individuals whose dream-selves had been liberated from their physical housings and unleashed upon the wakeful realm with all of their dream abilities intact. Just like people in dreams have a tendency to do stupid or bizarre things that don't always appear to fit the given scenario, so did Quasars have a reputation for being not exactly stellar in the common sense department. Thus, they were assigned normal, well-trained partners from an elite group known as the Quasar Force who worked for a para-policing agency called StarNet and the dream research and development group known as ArtReal. StarNet had been developed to try and keep the peace between the natives of Earth and the aliens from space that had first arrived shortly after the end of World War II. ArtReal created Quasars to assist in these peace-keeping efforts.

Geoff McKenna had been a practicing veterinarian in Montana with an interest in parapsychology and the occult. He had an adopted daughter named Macy from a marriage he'd had absolved. Realizing that his little girl needed a steady presence in her life, he had begun to consider semi-retirement, limiting his practice to farm visits and the occasional house call. He used his free time to indulge in his latest fascination, taking his daughter on field trips to cemeteries and alleged haunted houses, testing locals for clairvoyance and clairaudience, trying to discern the allure of witchcraft and the psychology behind those who fancied themselves creatures from mythology and legend. It was during this time that he encountered a teenaged girl who displayed extraordinary paranormal abilities and thought she might be part of a visiting "werewolf pack" in town for their version of a sabbat.

The girl's name was Amanda, and that was significant to him because Macy's real name was Amanda. Aside from that, the two had nothing in common, Macy being nine years old at the time, and Amanda appearing to be about fourteen. He had tried to return the strange girl to those he thought were her people, only to discover that not only did she have absolutely nothing to do with them, but that they had misled him about their intentions, using psychoreactive drugs to coerce anyone with any interest in their activities into becoming a part of their pack. Amanda saved his life, but she had killed their leader in the process. Goofy on hallucinogens, McKenna had no idea if what he'd witnessed that night had been real or not until the next day when the police got involved. The small town he'd lived in and built up his practice in was a relatively quiet place with a fairly strong religious community. They hadn't taken well to the notion that their trusted vet might have anything to do with the wackos who'd frolicked naked and half stupefied under the moonlight, apparently performing acts of human sacrifice. Before they could lynch him, however, Amanda's partner had arrived.

Tall and powerfully built, favoring a trench coat with a fedora like some old-time film detective, Quasar Force Officer Alexander Roglitz helped McKenna escape persecution, and then explained how he had lost his partner and was there to bring her back home. Fascinated, aware his reputation was likely damaged beyond repair, Geoff had learned about StarNet and ArtReal, and decided it was time to return to his home state of New York. He was offered a position with ArtReal as an astrobiologist, but remained enraptured with the Quasar Program. Before Amanda, all Quasars had been ghostly apparitions with an average life span of two weeks. The sleeping bodies of the dreamers were monitored in a laboratory while their dream-selves interacted with the real world. And then a young woman from parts unknown appeared one day, volunteered, and somehow wound up becoming the first_ physical _Quasar, her body morphing along with her mind so that she appeared completely normal to the average passerby. Her life span was unknown, although guesses of up to five years seemed optimistic. They gave her the designation of _Double A_ to indicate she was an improvement over the experiments that had been done before. Then they assigned her to Alexander and things really started to get weird.

"What's the big deal?" Macy asked him, drawing out a chair so she could sit beside him. "She's had partners before-_oh! Wait!_ Is this another Double A?"

Geoff sighed. "Yeah. They named him Peter."

"Peter?" she made a face. "Where do they get these names?"

"I never asked."

"Oh, _God_," the girl said suddenly, her gaze sweeping the table. "This one isn't like Two hundred, is he?"

"Guess we'll find out."

"Oh, no."

Geoff smiled. "Two hundred was a mistake."

"_Amanda_ was a mistake," she pointed out.

"Right, but she was a good mistake. They think she turned out physical because of the introduction of nightmares. When they were trying to convert her, her body attempted to wake itself, and thus her psyche remained within its housing. With her, the nightmares were accidental. They didn't know what caused them. With James they_ induced_ nightmares."

"I forgot his name. Thanks," she groaned.

"They haven't produced one since. Not a Double A, anyhow, so I'm guessing this one had nightmares on his own."

Macy picked at her cuticles. "And they gave him to Dory."

"Yes."

"So you didn't ask her to marry you."

"They had set up tables in the hallways. There were snacks and punch. Everybody was there." He shrugged. "It kinda all stole my thunder."

"She thought you sent her flowers because of her new partner."

"Yeah."

The girl shook her head. "Okay. So now what? Special dinner? A cruise around the Statue Of Liberty? Ice skating at Rockefeller Center?"

"She's getting to know Peter better. It'll take some time before things have settled down."

Macy worked a hangnail loose and tried to remove it without it unzipping too far from her nail area. "What's he look like?"

Geoff said, "I really didn't get a good look. I think he's just a boy."

"A boy? Like how old?"

"I dunno…like, maybe…maybe your age."

"Amanda looked fourteen. Wow. I'm almost her age…"

"Amanda had to be at least eighteen to sign the contract when she volunteered. She only looked fourteen because she had low self-esteem in real life and felt weak, or she was emotionally underdeveloped, or, or…well, I guess we'll never know. But a Quasar's appearance usually doesn't exactly match what they looked like awake. They're usually more attractive, and it's not uncommon for them to look a little younger."

"A boy my age," she said softly. "What can he do?"

"I didn't stick around to find out. Maybe Dory will call tonight and you can ask her. Or, maybe we'll see her in a day or two."

Amanda and Alex were missing in action. Somehow, someone had arranged for them to go offworld to another planet to assist with a renegade android problem. At first it looked like they had perished in an explosion shortly after take-off, and then they had been spotted and almost apprehended while leaving the alien world. No one had heard from or seen any evidence of them since. It was a four year journey round trip. Quasars seemed to be almost indestructible, and Amanda was programmed to do whatever was necessary to spare her partner's life. They could return at any time. Macy had hope, although she didn't care much for the looks in Dorreen or Geoff's eyes when she brought it up. Would Dory end up missing like Alex? Rumor was that an alien species had been interested in acquiring the Quasar for their own use. Did getting partnered with a Double A put Dory in danger? Macy hoped not. She really liked the woman, and obviously so did her dad.

Getting up slowly, she reached to pat her father's shoulder and said, "I hope so, Dad." She suddenly understood why his girlfriend's good fortune had brought him down.


	3. Chapter 3

3

Dorreen called that night while they were eating delivery Chinese. She and Geoff spoke so long on the phone that Mace eventually cleared her share of the dishes and left to get ready for bed. Her father tracked her down to update her.

"She says he looks about thirteen, doesn't talk much yet, and practically follows her around like a puppy."

"What are his abilities, Dad?"

"She said he can fly. He's strong, though not as strong as Amanda. He's very gymnastic. She said he likes to leap and swing from things and perch on high places. He can materialize objects at will. His touch makes a person feel good-"

"His touch feels good?"

He amended, "It makes you feel good about everything. Like you can trust him and everything will turn out okay. Perhaps a mild form of euphoria."

"Well, that's different."

"Speaking of different…what's strange about your face?"

"My…oh. I plucked my eyebrows."

Geoff cocked one of his own. "Why would you do that? Big modeling gig tomorrow?"

"No," she shrugged. "Valda told me it would look better."

"You're blonde," he pointed out. "Your eyebrows are pale. And believe me, no boy has ever been grossed out by a girl or attracted to one the more so because of her shapely eyebrows."

"Unibrow," she said.

"Unibrows are actually considered beautiful in some cultures and you don't have one anyway." He bent to squint at her face. "Didn't that hurt? The skin is all red."

"It's supposed to enhance the shape of my eyes."

"The redness?" he teased.

"No!"

He seemed about to return to the original subject, but asked instead, "Anything else she told you to do different?"

Macy shrugged again. "Shave my legs, shape my nails and clean under them, start wearing perfume-"

Geoff mentioned, "If any boy doesn't like you as you are, then he doesn't really like you."

She offered him a crooked smile. "That goes for girlfriends, too."

He straightened. "Huh?"

"No, not Dory. Me. I don't want Valda coming over here anymore. She says things…that disturb me. I don't really…like her."

"Oh, thank God," her father said, relaxing into a grin.

"You don't like her?"

"Not really. I was hoping you'd see it too, but you seemed to like her company, and I didn't want to seem too controlling so far as your friends are concerned. "

"She likes you."

"I know," he groaned. "Did she ever do anything that made you especially uneasy or upset?"

She loved her father's understanding nature. "Not really. Just…she was too adult for me."

"Actually, behavior like hers is considered pretty juvenile."

"I'm sorry, Dad. I just…don't really have anyone I can talk to anymore."

She meant friend-wise, but he assumed she meant female-wise specifically. "Is Dory too old for you?"

"No," she replied, combing through her still damp hair. "We've had some pretty good talks already."

"You know she'll be moving in once we're married."

"Duh. There were a few times when it felt like she had moved in already."

His grin broadened. "I'm glad you like her."

"So, what else can Peter do?"

"You know how if you look at Amanda just right she almost seems to have a shadow or some kind of distortion behind her or around her?"

"Yeah."

"His drifts away from him and he seems to grow weaker or less secure when it does."

Her freshly plucked brows rose. "Well, that's weird." She picked up the bottle of pale pink nail lacquer Valda had left with her, looked at it, then dropped it into the little wicker wastebasket.

"She said she isn't sure what else he can do. It can take a while to learn all of their traits and abilities."

"Is he staying at her place?"

"Yeah. She's not very comfortable with that. She said she's going to keep him Panned in the living room with the TV on."

Amanda was usually hypnotized by TV and would sit stupefied for hours until someone turned it off. Created using some borrowed technology from the group of aliens known on Earth as Capricorns, Quasars were controlled by their partners using a device known as a Ring of Pan that was activated by another called a Pan Handler. "She's going to keep Peter Panned?"

Geoff smirked. "Ah! Cute! I'll have to tell her that one."

"Will she be over tomorrow?"

"No," he said, "but I think I can get you a visitor's pass so you can see him. Then maybe we'll go to lunch together-"

"And you'll propose?"

"Maybe," he said, his eyes twinkling merrily.


	4. Chapter 4

4

The ArtReal receptionist printed out a little card and slipped it into a clear plastic sleeve with a lanyard attached. It hung nearly to Macy's waist, so she took it back and tied a knot in it a few inches from one end. Macy donned it and smiled, thanked the woman, then trailed her father down the corridor.

"Don't let me forget to turn that back in before we leave."

"Gotcha," she said, looking up and smiling politely at any employees they passed.

They hooked right and Geoff pushed through a doorway, turning toward his daughter with a finger to his lips to remind her there might be people sleeping inside. She nodded and repeated the gesture back at him.

Dr. Jacqueline Halbot was arranging glass containers atop a small cart. "Dr. McKenna," she said without looking his way.

"Dr. Halbot. I have my daughter with me today."

"Oh?" The woman turned around and removed small eyeglasses so she could better see the girl. "Is everything okay?"

Halbot gave Macy the creeps. She thought the woman looked like a Hollywood vampire in a lab coat. Years before, when she had first moved to New York, Macy had been abducted off the street near her aunt's place and experimented upon. She had only vague shadow memories of the event that occasionally pervaded her nightmares. When she was found, she had been comatose and was brought to ArtReal to see if the damage could be reversed. When the ArtReal scientists failed, Alex and his Quasar partner, Amanda, had used their combined talents to revive her. Macy sidestepped a little closer to her father who rested an arm around her shoulders.

"Everything's fine," he said. "We came to see the new Double A."

"Two three one? Peter?"

"Where do the names come from?" Macy asked.

"I think the list was created years ago by Walter Neville when he began the program," she answered. "Sure you're not ready to join up?"

Macy pressed closer to her father, finding the joke distasteful. Before Alex and Amanda's intervention, ArtReal's best means of reviving her at all was the suggestion to Quasar her. Sometimes she thought that would have been the most awesome thing in the world…but only if she'd turned out like Amanda. If she had become a standard, ghost-like Quasar, then her father would've had only a couple of weeks at most to prepare himself to say goodbye and bury her. Double A's were extraordinarily rare.

"Where are they?" Geoff asked. "Pete and Dory?"

"Try the gymnasium. Dr. Happenstance is conducting the traits and abilities tests."

Macy grinned. She always enjoyed visits with John Happenstance.

"Is there anything scheduled for me in the lab today?"

"I didn't check." As the pair moved away toward the laboratory, Halbot called softly, "Have fun, you two."

They crossed the room and Macy glanced over at empty beds on wheels lined up in near-darkness. She shuddered and rushed ahead to a door whose knob served also as the dial of a digital lock. Geoff approached and tried it. It opened easily and they entered a smaller, narrow room that was better lit and lined with cabinets and countertops. Geoff went to look at a bulletin board to see if there was anything pressing he needed to rake care of, saw there was not, and having recognized his daughter's discomfort, walked her toward the other exit so she wouldn't have to see Halbot again.

This time they emerged into a corridor with Arien glass windows that were almost perfectly soundproof. The blinds were down, but partially open, allowing a view of a sky that looked like it was becoming grey. From there they moved into a windowless stasis room where the sleeping bodies of Standard Quasars were kept alive as long as possible. It was the very room where Macy had been kept while her grief-stricken father had warred with himself over her fate after her abduction. The crypt-like chambers were empty. Now that Alex was gone, there were only two Quasar Force Officers, and the company had been slow in assigning them partners.

From there they exited into a corridor lined with offices. They turned left at the end, made a quick right, and entered a stairwell. The pair raced each other down, laughing and pretending to knock each other into the banister or wall, making crash sounds and explosion noises whenever one of them bounced off of one.

"One of these days one of us will get hurt and then we'll never do this again."

Macy replied, "I stole your wallet," and waved it at him as she hurried past.

He grabbed it back from her at the door at the bottom, and they exited the stairwell red-faced and breathless, big grins on their faces. The gym was to the right. They bypassed the double doors and entered a single steel door with a lit red light over it. A second door led to a small tiled room with a counter running along one wall, an empty wheeled cart pushed into a corner, some cabinets and a desk chair. Up three steps and McKenna knocked lightly at the door at the top. A young man looked through the glass window at them before nodding and Geoff held the door open for his daughter.

"Geoff! Macy!" exclaimed John jovially. "Did you come for the show?"

It was surprising to see how many people had crowded into the small space. When Amanda had been assigned to Alex, he'd just been given an assignment, so there had not been time to test her officially. Dorreen apparently had no cases at the moment, so the testing of her new partner was a luxury.

Geoff positioned himself in the center of the room toward the rear and rested his hands on Macy's shoulders. She could see between the people seated before her. She didn't know most of their names but was familiar with a few of their faces. A row of monitors emerged from the counter below the huge Arien glass window before them. Beyond that lay the gymnasium—a vast, open area in which stood a slim, short figure awaiting instruction and a taller one watching him.

One of the people in front of her operated a remote camera with a joystick and zoomed in on the smaller figure. Macy saw a face that could've belonged to a boy or a girl, with gentle eyes and a plump lower lip that jutted just enough to suggest a pout. The forehead was broad, the chin sweet and narrow. He had wavy hair of a warm wheaten gold and his eyes appeared maybe hazel and were ringed with thick, soft lashes. His nose was pert, throat slender and graceful. He was far slighter than Amanda, who'd resembled a slender, but well-formed fourteen year old. Macy thought of him as angelic in appearance. His skin was a soft, dusty pale gold as though he played regularly in sunshine, and his features were delicate. She thought that if he attended her school he'd likely be the envy of all the girls and the target of most of the boys. "Pretty," she heard herself murmur softly, and then glanced about to see if anyone had heard her.

"Oh, he is," agreed John. "I personally get a kick out of it when they turn out looking weak and frail. Packs more of a wallop when they cut loose on someone."

Quasars were programmed with crushes on their partners as a means of ensuring they would obey and protect them. This had been an issue for Alex, who was telepathic, and confused Amanda's feelings for him with his own feelings for her. Macy figured it should not be a problem for Dory, even though she barely ranked on the psychic scale at all due to the occasional dream she had that came true. Staring at the movie-star beautiful boy on the monitor, Macy recognized a pang of jealousy and smiled as she told herself it was stupid to feel that way. Looks were insufficient to judge people by. Personality was almost everything. None of the cute boys at school had ever been nice to her. It was as though they found her plain, simple, fresh-faced girl next door looks inferior. So she liked to look at pretty boys, but tended to avoid interaction with them.

John spoke into a microphone. "We have a couple of VIPs in here, maybe you'd like to do the last demonstration a second time for our late arrivals?"

Without glancing toward the window Quasar Force Officer 001, Dorreen Perandah, gave a nod before gesturing and speaking to her Quasar. She took a few steps back as the boy lifted a knee and drifted elegantly upward. He watched her for cues as she directed him to rise higher, and his slim body spun slowly in its ascent as though he dangled from a strand of spider silk.

"Graceful," Geoff noted.

"Makes 169 seem rough by comparison," John agreed, but Macy could see a grin on his face.

The boy swung into a slowly expanding outward spiral, then angled his body and picked up speed, zipping like a little, pale jet past the glass several times in the space of a minute. His partner called to him and he arced toward her, curving his body through the air like a leaping fish before he alighted soundlessly beside her. She mussed the top of his head, smiled, and took a bow. When she straightened, she looked up toward the window and scanned her audience with satisfaction.

"Strength test," John informed her, and they waited patiently as equipment was wheeled in and locked into place. Dory approached the all-in-one contraption and inspected the wheel locks, then announced she would be setting the weights at their limit of sixteen hundred pounds. When she was done, she approached the complacent, but aridly curious boy and bent to speak to him. He neared the thing, bent toward an edge of the frame, and lifted it easily with one hand.

The feat was noted, though not met with much excitement. The Quasar had tipped the device so that it remained on the floor and the bulk of the weight remained in gravity's grip. Amanda could have lifted the entire thing over her head.

"Flight strength," said John.

Dory gave the command and the boy rose slowly from the floor. The exercise equipment tipped almost on end. Dory spoke again and retreated a few steps. Very slowly the Nautilus machine left the floor, but only by a few inches. The Quasar, Peter, traveled a slow orbit around the room and then set the device down gently upright without having been instructed to. Clearly he lacked the means to chuck it through a wall like Amanda could.

"Impressive," Geoff mentioned softly, but Macy knew he was thinking the same thoughts as she.

"Ground speed," Dr. Happenstance said, and everyone watched Dory explain to Peter what she wanted him to do.

The boy sprinted off quickly and zipped laps around the gym. John's assistant activated a laser that emitted a beam across the width of the gym, and every time it was broken the time was recorded. After a few minutes the assistant told John, "Forty."

Macy had never seen Amanda run. She had never seen her do anything particularly fast, but she stubbornly believed the first Quasar she had ever met was probably faster.

"Air speed," John said, and the boy's orbits remained the same as he broke the laser repeatedly without his feet ever touching the floor.

"Same."

"Noted." The large scientist consulted an electronic pad beside him. "Ask him if he can alter his appearance."

After a moment, once Peter had settled, he stood looking puzzled until Dorreen made some suggestions to him. While he concentrated, the cameras zoomed in on him from different angles so that they could watch his ears elongate and form sharp tips. His hair faded to bleached blond, then acquired a rich carroty hue. The shape of his eyes grew almond and traveled a little farther toward the edges of his face. His cheeks rounded and dimpled, his irises changed color according to Dory who wore a small camera and microphone to record minute details. His height varied within the span of about a foot. He grew plump, then a little stronger looking. The look on his face told them none of this was easy for him. Finally he seemed to shrink and fade back into his original form.

"Limited," John decided.

By the end of the demonstration they had learned that Peter had an uncanny knack for comprehending and speaking any language they tried on him. He could manifest physical illusions as large as an elephant, but they remained in existence only so long as he remained aware of them. He performed a few stunts using his superhero-like gymnastic ability and showed extraordinary reflex capability.

Unlike Amanda, he could not pass through solids and could not become invisible. He did have the ability to vanish from one place and reappear almost simultaneously in another, and did this once while in contact with his partner who grinned broadly with pride in his talents. When they attempted to test his telekinetic abilities, the assembled group was amazed to witness a blurry, indistinct apparition that appeared to intercede on his behalf, picking Dory's sunglasses off of her palm and carrying them to Peter, then returning to flip her hair as though someone standing very close behind her had abruptly blown on it.

"That's new," one of the observers commented.

"Play it back," John commanded. "Slow it down. Enhance the footage."

They watched it several times. The peculiar, slightly dark blur took on the look of a five-digit hand as it coalesced somewhat around the sunglasses. Just behind Dory a vague, yet human-shaped face manifested just before her hair moved.

"Doppleganger," John declared. "A new trait. Study it, document it, and add it to the database."

"His shadow," murmured Geoff.

Happenstance turned his way. "What about his shadow?"

"Like in _Peter Pan_. His shadow kept coming loose and doing its own thing."

There was a momentary silence before Dr. Happenstance began to chuckle and several others followed suit. "_Peter Pan_," he said, shaking his head.

Macy grinned, wondering if her father would tell them about what she'd said the night before about keeping Peter Panned, but he added nothing more.

"Firing range," John said into the microphone, and Dory nodded and led the boy toward the exit. "I saw the movie…but I didn't read the book," he mentioned as people stood and filed from the room.

"I think I read the book," Geoff admitted, but he didn't sound sure.

Macy had seen the Disney film and from what she could recall, she hadn't been overly impressed with the story. "What are they going to do at the firing range?" she asked her father. "See if he can catch a bullet?"

"Something like that," was all he admitted.


	5. Chapter 5

5

Instead of letting her watch the combat and weaponry tests, Geoff brought her back upstairs to show her some of the work he was doing with alien tissue samples. A former veterinarian, he dealt with alien species more easily than someone who had only studied human medicine. His chief complaint was that he never got to examine a living alien. There were several he still only knew of from photos, drawings, and footage. He was able to show her a few model skulls and skeletons, the shed sheath from a Leonid's foreclaw, a couple of long hairs from a Sagittarian, and pictures of a preserved shedding from a Lesser Cancerian. When she grew bored, he took her to the roof where he was able to get a Shirley Temple from the pilot's lounge, and then they strolled outside to feel the breeze on their skin and enjoy the view of Manhattan.

"Are you gonna have kids?" Macy asked her father, who choked a little on his ginger ale with a twist of lime.

"Uh, I hadn't planned on it." He asked her, "Did you want a baby brother or sister to help care for and play with?"

"I'd rather have a puppy," she grunted.

"When we get a bigger house, we'll get a puppy or something. Why did you ask, though?"

She shrugged and poked at the ice in her glass with her straw. "Some kids told me they were adopted and when their parents eventually had kids of their own…they were, well, almost forgotten about."

Geoff sighed. "I felt that way when your aunt Nadean came along."

"You did?"

"I'm a firstborn. We sometimes go through that, too."

"Oh."

He placed an arm about her. "You will have input in all of our plans. No big decisions will be made until we've heard your opinion."

She sighed grimly. Macy was of an age where she was beginning to value her privacy, so she didn't feel like she was losing Geoff's attention to another female. If anything, she was pleased he had found someone who truly seemed worthy of him and was glad to see him happy. He had only married her mother when he was younger to try and help her out of a bad situation. He'd admitted that he'd only seen her like a miserable stray in need of special care and had never been able to actually imagine a long-term relationship with her. The woman had used him and stolen from him and eventually abandoned him with her infant daughter from a previous relationship…and Geoff had never been certain that tiny Amanda Beverly had been her child to begin with.

"Will you get a real wedding this time?"

"That's up to Dorreen."

"I guess that's not really a guy thing."

"For some guys it is," he told her. "I'd be happy enough with the license, but I think her family would prefer a nice ceremony."

"Why do I think _nice_ means _expensive_?"

"It's up to her," he said again.

She looked past his arm at the painted markings on the rooftop. "Nothing ever flies out of here."

"Not anymore. But they maintain this as a landing pad for small craft in case they ever get any alien dignitaries…in small crafts." As he looked about he noticed Dorreen walking toward them. He quickly removed his arm from Macy's shoulder and started to whistle.

"What are you up to, Geoffery McKenna?"

"Who me?" As he removed his free hand from his pocket to shrug, he pretended to accidentally bump against Macy and then reacted as if startled. "Why, Miss! Where did you come from? I didn't see you there!"

The girl giggled. "We were just talking about marriage," she told Dory.

"Well I think you two make a lovely couple." She stretched and scanned the view. "Looks like it'll be a nice day."

Geoff said, "We were thinking about grabbing some lunch somewhere."

"I can't be gone too long," she told them. "Otherwise, I'd join you. We have to do some field testing with Peter, and then maybe I'll finally be free."

"Good golly, Miss Molly," Geoff grumbled, then plunged a hand within his pocket and dropped to one knee. Macy gasped and Dory's eyes went huge. He withdrew a velvety tan-colored box and held it aloft to the Quasar Force Officer while setting the remains of his drink to the side. "Want me?"

A hand flew up to her face and she stepped backward, laughing. Then she lunged for his shirt, seized the front of it, and tugged on it. "Up on your feet, ya big lug."

As he rose he asked, "Is that a yes?"

"As if I might say anything else," she chided, drawing him to her for a big kiss that lasted so long Macy's cheeks flushed and she started playing with her ice again.


	6. Chapter 6

6

"How come she didn't ask for the day off?" Macy wanted to know.

"Because she's a professional."

"Then why did you ask off?"

"Because I have you with me," Geoff said.

Macy was helping him pick out flowers in a shop. "Are you sure she likes these?"

"It doesn't matter. She'll enjoy the surprise."

"You should, like, fill her place with a thousand roses."

"Maybe I could just drive a parade float in there." He chuckled. "You have no idea how much they cost."

"A kid at school told me one time that cut flowers are the biggest rip-off. It costs pennies to grow a rose, and then places like this charge a fortune for them and they really jack the prices up for Valentine's and Mother's Day."

Geoff turned to smile at the wide-eyed woman who had been assisting him. "Um…a single bouquet of deep red longstems?"

"A dozen?"

He nodded. "That's fine, thanks." When she departed he turned to his daughter and said, "You're right. Balloons are cheaper."

"This is too adult for balloons," she informed him. "Hire someone to play the violin while you eat dinner."

"What about ice skating?"

"The carousel in Central Park."

"A horse and carriage."

"Horseback riding."

"I've never been that comfortable on a horse," he reminded her. "A champagne cruise around the Statue Of Liberty."

"A hot air balloon ride over-"

He lifted a finger and shook his head. "You know I'm not fond of flying."

"But flying is so romantic, Dad!"

"So were the hundred roses, but you killed that for me."

"A thousand roses."

He shrugged. "They just die anyway. If she really likes them, then we'll plant some when we move."

Macy prodded, "And dinner?"

He looked at his watch. "I'm not sure when she'll get home. I may have her pick something up so at least we won't have to reheat anything."

The florist informed him that his bouquet was ready. She had boxed them and wrapped them and set them near the register.

"Make _her_ pick up take-out? That's not romantic!"

"Hey," he said, withdrawing his wallet as he approached the counter, "she said yes already. I don't have to keep trying to win her over."

"You proposed?" the saleswoman asked him. "Well, then you'll _always_ have to keep proving your love to her."

He stared blankly at the woman. "How much?"

"Seventy-eight fifty."

Geoff made a sound like he'd accidentally stepped on someone's pet hamster.

The woman mentioned, "Of course, if you can't afford to woo her forever, then you better hope you're up for it in other departments."

Smiling, he withdrew a nice wad of hundreds and slowly peeled one free.

"Oh, I think she'll love them," the florist told him.

He turned to smile at his daughter.


	7. Chapter 7

7

She was not pleased with the pizza. Pizza was one of her all-time favorites, and he'd picked it up from her favorite pie-shop with all of her favorite toppings, but she'd expected dinner with Dory and was hoping to see Peter up close.

Geoff shared a slice with her and put _Ghostbusters_ on, knowing how much she loved the movie. She seemed distracted, though, and didn't laugh as often as usual, so when the guys were climbing the stairs on their way to battle Gozer the Gozerian, he unexpectedly departed.

Macy picked at savory toppings when she didn't feel like eating whole slices anymore. She watched the Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man get angry and was relieved when the guys survived the ordeal even though she had seen the film like a hundred times.

She heard a throat being cleared as the credits rolled, and there was her father standing smartly by the little hallway that led to the single bedroom, a fluffy, peach-colored towel folded neatly over one arm. "Your spa treatment, m'lady?"

"My what?" She rose from the floor and strolled past him as he gestured toward the bathroom. Candles glowed in the steamy darkness and fragrant foam topped scalding water in the tub. "Oh, she'll love this!"

"This, my dear, is for you," he told her.

"Me?"

"I'll refresh your beverage." He stepped within the small space to turn on some soft music. "Be right back."

She stood on the little apricot colored plush rug and inhaled the sweet fragrance of frangipani. The music he'd selected was Hawai'ian slack-key guitar. He returned with a tall, iced pink lemonade and set it on a small table near the tub. Then he reached behind himself and withdrew a fresh _Ellery Queen's Mystery Magazine _from his pocket.

"When did you buy this?"

"This morning when I bought gasoline."

"You're just dreamy!"

"I please all the ladies," he boasted playfully. "Take your time. Have a good soak."

Because she had slept over a few times, Dory kept a soft bathrobe for her with her nickname embroidered on it. Geoff had thoughtfully hung it on the back of the door. Macy stripped and folded her clothes neatly atop the toilet seat lid. She had already left her shoes in the living room when she first arrived. She looked in the mirror above the sink, gazing at her slight form in the soft gold candle glow and couldn't decide if she did or did not like what she saw. She unbound her hair and let it fall just past her shoulders, pale and almost shimmery in the flickering light. The water was very hot, so she perched on the edge of the tub for a few minutes, listening to the drowsy sounds of traditional Polynesian melodies over a recording of lulling ocean waves caressing a glittering shore. She inserted her toes, but it was still too hot, so she ran cold water until she could ease beneath the lingering blanket of foamy white bubbles.

At first she merely surrendered herself to the encompassing warmth and heavenly fragrance, closing her eyes and clearing her mind. After a while she slouched and bent her legs until only her eyes, nose, and lips remained dry. Then she slowly let her head sink, holding her breath, relaxing, feeling the velvety warmth consume her. She lifted part of her upper body free and leaned back to let her hair dry until she felt she could look at her magazine without water running into her eyes. Now and then she heard her father make noise as he busied himself about the apartment, killing time. She thought she heard him singing a couple of times, and that was rare because he wasn't aware he had a pleasing singing voice.

The bubbles melted and she let some of the water drain off so she could refill it with hotter water. She washed her hair with Dory's papaya shampoo and coconut conditioner. Geoff had left a fresh bar of soap for her in the dish and she unwrapped it to inhale its coconut lime fragrance. A candle sputtered and she smiled, thinking she might have the most awesome father in the whole wide world. Shortly thereafter she distinctly smelled chocolate and decided there was no room left for doubt.

When she cut the water, she heard talking and knew Dory was finally home. She drew her robe on and fled the humid room to greet her with a big hug. "Dory!"

"Macy!"

Behind her stood a wisp of a boy in a loose fitting button-down shirt, khaki trousers and sneakers holding a cardboard box that smelled wonderful. "Hi," she said, releasing the woman.

The boy's eyes met hers and after a moment his lips formed a slight smile.

"Peter," Dory began, "this is Macy."

He said shyly, "Hi."

"Hi," she said again.

"I brought extra in case he's hungry," Dory mentioned, turning to accept the box from the Quasar. He stared at Macy, but without menace.

"They don't have to eat," Geoff reminded her.

"I know, but I want him to feel…like he belongs."

Suddenly aware her hair was wet and she wore only a robe, Macy hurried to Dory's bedroom to seek something more appropriate. The best she came up with was an oversized long nightshirt with Wonder Woman on it, but at least it wouldn't come untied and flop open. When she emerged, the adults were unpacking food in the living room and Peter still stood near the apartment door. Macy approached him and he followed her with eyes that seemed flecked with brown one moment, then more of a dark grey, then olive green. She noticed his pupils were unusually large.

"Whoa! Hey there, kiddo!" Geoff said, abruptly on his knees so he could look into her face. He turned her chin his way and snapped his fingers in front of her eyes. "You still with us? You okay?"

Embarrassed, her eyebrows crinkled toward each other and she drew away from him. "What? I'm fine."

"Not for a good thirty seconds or so you weren't," Dory told her from her right.

"You were in a daze or trance," Geoff explained, looking over at the innocent boy who still stared her way. She thought she detected a sad longing in his eyes and cocked her head, intrigued. "I think it's time for you to hit the hay."

"But Dory just got here!"

"It's after ten o'clock," he told her. "You agreed to start going to bed at a reasonable time before school-"

"What's burning?" asked Dory, sniffing the air.

"The cookies!" Geoff yelped.

Smoke was streaming from Dory's oven, and even as they dashed toward it, the smoke grew darker and more voluminous. "Oven mitts! Oven mitts!" yelled Dory, searching frantically about.

"I don't know where I put them," Geoff blurted, waving smoke out of his way so he could turn the oven off.

Someone began to beat on a wall from an adjoining apartment and then Dory's smoke detector went off.

"Get the cookies!" Macy told Peter, and he blinked, strode purposefully between the adults, opened the oven and withdrew the hot baking sheet bare-handed.

"Oh!" exclaimed Dory before she started laughing. The Quasar felt no pain. She located a dish towel and folded it over itself on top of her cutting board. "Set it there," she told Pete. "Thank you." She reached to fondly ruffle his hair.

"Is that what you're going to do?" Geoff asked her.

"What?"

"Mess up his hair like that? That's one of the things Alex always did to Amanda."

She looked at Two thirty-one and shrugged. "I don't know."

"It looks like you're petting a dog."

"Jealous?" she teased.

He chuckled. "No. Just curious. Sorry 'bout the cookies. They were the last batch anyway."

She saw several on a cooling rack atop her small kitchen table. "Chocolate chip?"

"Tollhouse with walnut pieces."

"Ooh, what a man!" she purred.

He grinned and noticed the mixing bowl near the sink. "Next to the last batch."

Dory grabbed the bowl and looked at it. She didn't think there was quite enough dough left for another full dozen…not at the size Geoff made them. She handed it to Peter. "You like cookie dough?"

He accepted it as though it was a gift so marvelous he was unable to believe anyone could trust him with it.

"Go ahead. Finish it up."

Macy had fled to open windows and turn on a small fan in Dory's bedroom to help evacuate the smoke. The alarm hadn't stayed on long and the neighbors seemed to have settled. At least no one was banging on the wall anymore. As she re-entered the tiny kitchen she saw Peter lift the bowl to his face as if to sniff the treat, but he kept going until his face was well within it. Geoff's eyes grew large and Dory started laughing again. "What were you saying about treating him like a dog?"

"Maybe we could buy him a collar," Geoff snorted.

"That's not funny," Macy announced loud enough that the boy lowered the bowl, revealing gobs of dough stuck to his face and eyelashes.

"You're right," Geoff agreed. "I'm sorry. You're a good kid," he told the Quasar.

"That sounded like you were talking to a dog," complained his daughter.

"Let me get you a spoon," Dory said, gently prying the bowl free of his hands. She looked at his face and added, "And a towel."

"Can I have a cookie?" Macy asked.

Her father sighed. He didn't like sending her to bed full. "All right. One. Want some milk?"

"I still have lemonade in the bathroom."

"In the bathroom?" Dorreen echoed. "Were you guys having a picnic in there before I arrived?"

Macy grabbed a cookie and was happy to find it was still warm. She departed for the bathroom where she finished her drink and blew out all of the candles, then gathered her clothing and carried it into the bedroom. She set it on the floor near the door and climbed up on Dory's high, cushiony mattress. She laid her damp head on a pillow, spreading the strands out behind her like rays of sunshine. She listened to the adults talk and noticed the burnt cookie smell was rapidly fading. She had just drifted to sleep when a chill woke her. She got up to turn off the fan, hit the lights, and draw a lightweight afghan up over herself. Soon she was sound asleep.


	8. Chapter 8

8

The dream coalesced slowly, a bunch of memories and formless colors focusing into a time and place. She sat on the edge of a hospital-type bed in the shadows of a large room. She wore only a long cotton nightshirt. Off to the right a meager light illuminated a figure in a white lab coat consulting some papers on a clipboard. Was it Dr. Halbot? It was too small to be John. Too tall for Dr. Sanders. Why was she at ArtReal? She recalled waking up there before. Back when Alexander and his Quasar partner Amanda had helped revive her from a catatonic state.

The figure glanced her way. At the distance and with the poor lighting, the person seemed light-skinned with dark hair. Dr. Halbot? She hoped not. Even her father described the woman as creepy. It neared and the drawn-back hair seemed to flow and swish behind her. The only person she knew with very long black hair was Amanda. Had she returned? Then where was Alex? When she was close enough to identify, Macy hopped down from the thin mattress to the cold, hard floor and rushed to her, wanting to hug her but still uncertain. The teen seemed smaller, or was it only that Macy herself was a teenager herself now, taller than she'd been at age nine when she'd last seen 169. "Amanda?"

"Macy!" exclaimed the girl with a bright smile. "How are you?"

The Quasar seemed unusually coherent. "I'm fine…but, where's Alex?"

"Alex…" the girl repeated. "I remember Alex…."

"Of course you do. He's your partner."

"Yes…my…my…."

"Is he here, too?"

"Yes!" the bright-eyed girl enthused, her pale blue eyes sparkling. "Oh, give me a hug! It's been so long!"

Even though the interaction didn't seem right, Macy stepped in for a hug. The Quasar ran her hands over her back until one met her neck and a wave of joy overwhelmed the little blonde, making her giggle. "Oh, I missed you," 169 said, her eyes wet with unshed tears, her soft breath warm on Macy's cheek.

Macy felt so strange, so exhilarated and alive. But…Amanda's touch had always made people sleepy…. "Are you…are you awake?" she asked uncertainly, backing away from the older teen.

"Am I what?" she giggled back.

Something about the scenario seemed very out of place, but she couldn't pinpoint exactly what it was. "Are you…are you still a Quasar, Amanda?"

The girl rose elegantly a few feet into the air, then corkscrewed down slowly, her lab coat flaring around her thighs. "What do you think?"

"Why am I here?"

The Quasar grabbed her hand and exuberance surged through her body. She eagerly allowed the girl to lead her elsewhere. "Haven't you always wanted to be like me?"

"Well…yes! Oh, my God! Can I? Can I truly be like you?"

Amanda flashed a huge smile and led her into another room that didn't look just right to the blonde.

"Is this ArtReal?"

"Doesn't it look like it?"

"Well, sorta. I…I don't know."

The dark-haired girl leaned in close, all bright white smile and huge ice-blue eyes. She reminded Macy of the Cheshire Cat. "Well, where would you like to go?"

She felt uneasy about her half-familiar surroundings, yet willing to indulge in nearly anything Amanda suggested. "I don't know…is Alex at home?"

"Alex, Alex. Do you like him or something?"

Alexander Roglitz was more than twice her age, six-one, two hundred and ten pounds of brawn, and divorced. He had warm gold-brown hair and dark blue eyes, a cleft chin, and a New York accent. His partner appeared to be about fourteen and he treated her like an equal. Macy had developed a bit of a crush on him, and his absence had been devastating to her. "Well," she replied shyly, " not in the same way you do."

Amanda smiled, drawing a finger along Macy's jaw as she turned toward a flight of stairs and called, "Alex?"

They were standing in his living room. The McKennas had stayed with him briefly when they'd first moved to New York from Montana. She'd thought the stark black and white color scheme had been rather debonair and sexy…kind of the way she imagined James Bond decorated.

He emerged from the bedroom and hesitated at the top of the steps. This time Macy ran to him and wrapped her arms around him, staggering him backward a step or two.

He was warm, his body firm and real, and he still smelled like that cologne she remembered. She had gone into his bedroom once to find out what it was called_. Tuscany_. He smelled so good!

"Hi," he said gently, holding her against him, the look in his eyes soft and dreamy.

She turned her head and pressed her face to his ribcage. "Oh, God, I missed you! I missed you so much! Oh, Alex! Don't ever leave like that again!"

She loved the deep, warm tone in his chest as he chuckled. "Never, Macy. I will _never_ leave you again."

She wanted to cling to him forever, but knew it was already growing awkward. Releasing him, she stepped backward and he caught her in his arms before she fell down the stairs. "Oh! You saved me!"

"It's okay," he assured her, walking backward until he was leaning against the wall between his bedroom and the upstairs guest bathroom door. He kept her snug against him and Macy felt so safe, so secure, that tears came to her eyes. "I would never let go of you."

Warmth flooded her and she felt overwhelmed by a wonderful strangeness while he held her with one arm and stroked her hair with his free hand. Recalling they were not alone, she pulled away from him, and he released her reluctantly, a sadness in his eyes.

Macy licked her lips, swallowed, then glanced around for the Quasar. She exhaled and grinned uncomfortably as she smoothed down her T-shirt and jeans. "I was wearing…oh. I'm dreaming."

"You're what?" He reached for her cheek, let his thumb slide along it while he moved a few loose strands of hair away from her face.

She sighed. "I'm dreaming. This isn't real. You're not really here yet."

He licked his lips and moved closer to her. "Do I have to be?"

The girl burst into laughter. "Wow. No! I guess not…." She reached to take hold of his wrist and moaned with the sensation of bliss that flooded her. "I miss you so much."

"I've missed you, too." He closed in so that she felt comforted by his body heat.

"I really, really wish this was real."

A hand behind her turned her and she was face to face with Peter. She blinked, trying to catch her breath. "Do you now?" he asked her. "Do you _really?_"


	9. Chapter 9

9

Geoff and Dorreen decided it was time for him to go. They grabbed their glasses and stepped in through the window from the fire escape. Peter stood near the television, still and serene, a metallic band seemingly hovering about him at about the level of his heart, a device a little larger than and thicker than a television remote atop the TV pointed at him.

"And thus Peter was Panned," Geoff murmured.

Dory kept kissing him. She took the near-empty glass from his hand and set it on the windowsill, pulling him after her so she wouldn't lose contact with him. He returned the kisses passionately, moving with her in a sort of slow dance within the small space. "I don't hear any music," she whispered.

"Oh, I do," he whispered back.

When it felt like he was going to stay the night she finally drew away from him, laughing softly. "You need to get home, Loverboy. You've got work in the morning and you still have to drive back to Connecticut."

"Do I?" he complained with a grin.

"Do they still deliver bills to your mailbox?"

"Darn that," he groused. "If only I could make them quit, I could be done with this silly work thing."

"Have you considered joining the Quasar Force? We…have an opening."

His brows rose. "Writing off Alex already? If he's still alive somewhere, he'd be back around now."

"And won't he be surprised by us?" she asked.

"He _was_ telepathic," Geoff reminded her. "He might've known this was coming before we did."

"That's clairvoyance," she corrected.

"No…I'm thinking he probably knew our thoughts before we ever revealed them to each other."

"I have written him and all other men off as potential boyfriends."

"Me, too," he joked. He stepped forward to touch her face and kiss her one more time. "Let me get Macy."

In the bedroom the teenager lay on her back, one leg crooked to the side, her head facing the wall like she'd been dropped there. "Macy," he said in a gentle, but normal speaking voice. "Macy McKenna. Time to get up, Pumpkin. Time to go home."

"Stay," said Dorreen, draping herself around his neck from behind.

He chuckled. "Ma-cy. Hey, Macy. Yo. Time to wake up." He nudged her. He nudged her again. He placed the back of one hand near her parted lips. "Still breathing."

"Does she usually sleep so soundly?"

"Not since she was a toddler. Mace-a-million. Macedonian. Mace-a-roni."

"How come you call her Macy and not Amanda or Mandy?"

He gave her a withering look. "Well, not now. Now that we know an Amanda."

"I wrote her off, too."

"You twisted little vixen. Okay, Maced Potatoes, time to get up." He bent and hauled her into a sitting position. Her head lolled forward and she made a low, grating sound in her throat like someone using a file on the edge of a piece of wood. Geoff placed an arm beneath her knees and scooped her up. "God. She's definitely no toddler."

"Is she all right?" Dory asked.

"She's fine. Too much pepperoni and _Ghostbusters_."

"She did have an exciting day. Thanks for the roses."

He smiled as he turned toward her with his softly snoring daughter in his arms. "Do you think you'll want children?"

"Uh, I don't know. I mean-"

"Here's one," he said, pretending to push the girl off on her.

She laughed. "Find me a little boy and we'll have a complete set."

"Hey, there's one," he told her as he entered the living room. "Already housebroken, too."

"Good night, my veterinarian in armor."

His grin broadened. "Good night, my fairest. Dream of me."

"Always," she told him, holding the door open for him.


	10. Chapter 10

10

"Why would you want to hang out with some old guy anyhow?" he asked her, scowling at the large man who stood still behind her like he'd been caught doing something wrong.

"He's not _old_," she protested. "He's _mature_. I like that in my men."

"Your _men? _ You're just a kid. What do you know about men?"

"I know they're a far cry from little boys."

He snorted. "Probably not as far as you think. What's wrong with me?"

"You're a boy," she told him dismissively. "And not even a real boy—just a Quasar."

"What does that mean? I'm real enough."

"Not really." She gestured about. "Especially here. Nothing's really real here."

"I beg to differ," he told her, crossing his arms over his thin chest. "Things here are a far cry from the reality you know."

"I didn't say they weren't!" she snapped.

"Feisty, aren't you? Little girl."

"I am _not_ a little girl!" she choked, putting a hand to her throat. Her voice sounded different.

"Are you okay, beloved of my life?" Alex asked her, placing a hand on the small of her back.

They stood in an unfamiliar house decorated with warm woods and upscale country colors and patterns. Sunlight threw everything into a golden haze and her eyes flicked up to a mirror over the mantel where an elegant blonde woman stared back at her. "Alex?" she asked uncertainly.

His lips found the hollow above her collarbone and kissed it. Then he drew the tip of his nose up along her throat. "Yes, beloved?"

She reached toward the mirror, watched the reflection mimic her. "Wow."

"Oh, you like that?" he asked, tilting his head to kiss the edge of her jaw.

She looked at her hands. She was wearing a ring. She grabbed for his hands and found a slightly larger version on his own finger. "_We're_…you're my…_husband_?" The last word was barely louder than an exhalation.

He laughed. "Still, if it pleases you." He wrapped himself around her from behind and gazed into the mirror with her. "Oh, we're going to have such a wonderful time when the baby comes."

"_Ba-"_ she coughed and her reflection was replaced with Peter standing before her again.

"Is that what you want?"

"No, I-"

"Too much too soon?" he asked her. "Wouldn't this be more to your liking?"

He gestured and she turned. At first she was startled to be confronted by a stranger, but then she saw the familiar eyes, the dimple on his chin. "Alex?" she asked, and the teenaged boy grinned at her bashfully.

"Hi, Macy."

Her hands flew to her face and she started laughing. "Oh, God, no! Really?"

Peter looked displeased. "You prefer him old? Too old for you?"

She looked again. Thirteen year old Alex was adorable with rumpled hair that refused taming, one tooth missing. "Okay, he's cute, I'll give you that, but…this isn't the guy I…"

"Fell in love with?" Pete finished for her.

"I'm…I'm not in _love_ with him. It's just a crush. I know he's too old for me. We'll never be together-"

"But you could," he insisted.

She shook her head. "This is just my imagination. None of this is real."

"If he's what you really want, then you could be together if…."

She waited for him to continue. He turned slightly and stepped aside so Amanda could approach her. "You could be like us!" she enthused.

"Right. A Quasar. My father would_ love _that."

"Wouldn't he?" Peter asked her. "Look at this girl here," he said, gesturing toward 169 like she was a fabulous prize to be won. "Isn't she beautiful? Isn't she perfect? Isn't she…_powerful?_"

"Yes, but-"

"Show me," he said, and they were back in the ArtReal gymnasium. Amanda wore charcoal grey skinny jeans with a lighter grey sleeveless knit top. Macy found herself dressed in a dark blue StarNet uniform like the one Dory sometimes wore. "Flight," Peter commanded.

Macy turned toward Alex's partner and repeated the command. Amanda lifted from the floor with a casual leap, and then crawled about upside-down on the ceiling for fun. They watched her duck through the soundproofing and vanish until she dropped down beside Macy, a solid passing through solids like they were mirages.

"Fascinating," Peter said, striding forward to poke the long-haired girl.

She cocked an eyebrow, reached through his chest, seized his heart and yanked him to her.

"Make her stop!"

"I can't control her," Macy told him. "Only Alex can."

He glanced left and Alex was there, striding forward. "Amanda, let him go."

She did, acting like it had been no big deal at all.

"She answers only to him?"

Macy nodded.

"So I answer only to Dorreen?"

"That's how they programmed you."

"Programmed?" he repeated. "You mean, like brainwashing?"

She shrugged.

"You don't know?"

"I don't work there! I'm just a kid!"

He paced before them. "What is this _thing_ they have on me right now?"

She looked at him strangely. He gestured downward and she could see a molten metal band encompassing his chest. "That's a Ring of Pan."

"A what?"

"A controlling device. It's activated by a Pan Handler and it keeps you still and quiet."

It faded from sight. He pointed at Amanda. "He uses it on her, too?"

"Sure, but I've heard she can break them."

"How?"

"I don't know! Ask him!"

He ignored Alexander and his partner. "They're just memories of yours, just figments of your imagination."

"Oh. Right."

"Why do we have to have others controlling us?"

Macy told him, "Because you're not right. You think you're dreaming when you're awake, and like when you dream, you're prone to doing really weird and stupid things."

"This is an outrage," he grumbled. "And we were programmed this way so we can't take over or something, right?"

"No. Quasars have never been especially coherent."

"Then they're not doing it right. They're screwing up the process somehow. How many of us are there?"

"Two."

"Only two?" He turned to look Amanda up and down. "Are we part of a breeding program or something?"

"Ew, no," she said, very uncomfortable with the entire situation. "There were three of you. They don't make many like you. Most of the Quasars turn out like ghosts and they're short-lived."

He turned her way. "I have a life span?"

She backed up. "I don't know! I think they said Amanda might have only five to seven years."

"That's not enough," he said. "What happened to the third one?"

Around them the background shifted and changed. It darkened, startled drizzling, tall buildings emerged from the shadows. "He killed him," she said, pointing to where Alex had just been.

"The big one? The non-Quasar? How?"

"I think they said a microwave fell on his head, and then Alex used a flashlight to dissipate him."

He studied the new backdrop, then turned and said, "What? That makes no sense."

"I wasn't there," she said with a shrug.

"So, despite our abilities, we can not only be controlled, but killed."

"Seems so."

"Wrong answer," he snapped, and she imagined the pretty little boy was somehow older, larger, and dangerous. "I'm not going to be anybody's slave. Not now that I'm a god." The rain turned his hair into dark lines like claw marks across his forehead. "And I'm not going to die in five to seven years."

"_Okay,"_ she said, stepping back near an overflowing Dumpster.

"You have something…like me…about you," he told her. "But you're not like me."

"I'm just a kid!" she repeated.

"Where is this Alex and Amanda?"

"No one knows."

"What?"

"They traveled into space to help some aliens on another planet and no one's heard from them since. That was like four years ago."

Peter seemed to change back into his old self. "So, it's just me, then?"

"For now. Unless they return."

"Just me and Dorreen," he said, lifting his hands to crack his knuckles. "And you."


	11. Chapter 11

11

"Who are you and what have you done with my daughter?" Geoff stood in the entranceway to the kitchen, hair askew, bleary-eyed, unshaven, wearing plaid pajama bottoms and an old robe left open.

"Good morning, sleepyhead!" Macy chimed, stirring eggs in bacon grease. "Orange juice?"

"Love some." He meandered over to the kitchen table and dropped into a chair to rub at his face. "Why are you up so early? Why are you dressed like that?"

"Well, after my run, I got a shower and decided I'd go to work with you again."

He stared uncomprehendingly at her like she'd just jabbered at him in an unfamiliar language. "You run? You don't run."

"Hungry?"

He watched her approach cautiously in heels, carrying a plate of hot breakfast. "Did you buy shoes when you went running?"

"Oh, these?" She turned her head and her ankle to glance at them. "You got them for me for that last funeral we went to."

"Oh." He grabbed hot sauce and doused his fried eggs, put orange marmalade on his English muffin. "You sleep good?"

"I slept fantastic!" she enthused.

"Like you were dead."

"Yeah," she said.

"I didn't get much sleep at all."

"So I see."

"This is good."

"Just how you like it," she agreed.

"And why are you coming to work with me?"

"I want to learn more about the Quasar Program."

"Okay." He stuffed muffin in his mouth and chewed. "I'm pretty sure Dory's going to be busy."

"I thought I'd talk to John."

"Dr. Happenstance? I think he's on vacation."

The change in her face was dramatic. She appeared absolutely devastated. Geoff ate crispy bacon while he pondered her over-reaction. "Well, maybe Dr. Halbot might let me ask her some things?"

"Like if she prefers to roast children in her oven or her fireplace? I thought you didn't like her."

She shrugged, eyes downward. "She's okay."

He was curious as to how this would all play out. "Okay. Come to work with me. Learn things. I'll want a full report by the end of work Friday."

"Okay," she agreed.

"What day is it anyway?"

"It's Wednesday."

"Oh. John's not on vacation yet."

Macy's fists flew up and she shook them while hissing an excited, _"Yesssss!"_


	12. Chapter 12

12

He parked the Cherokee near Dory's old hatchback, and then they reported to the ArtReal receptionist so Macy could get a new visitor's badge. The girl had been unusually bubbly during the trip, telling jokes, commenting on things she heard on the radio, and generally unable to remain quiet or still.

She was silent inside the building, walking close to his side down the hallways until he got to the lab and turned to look at her. She smiled bravely at him and followed him within. "So, this is the Release Lab?"

"Yes." He'd explained it to her the first time she had visited his workplace. "After the subjects have been stabilized, they are brought here for some general testing on things like vision and hearing before they meet their assigned partners."

No one was present, so she trailed him to the Astrobiology Lab. "And this area is used for?"

He looked at her strangely. "This is where I work. We're trying to document everything we know about the alien species that visit us."

"Like which ones?"

"Are you playing news reporter or something?"

She shrugged. "So, Mr. McKenna-"

"Doctor," he corrected.

"Oh, of course," she said airily. "Doctor…just what is your degree in anyway?"

He turned to face her with a fist on his hip. "Veterinary medicine. Look—I don't mind answering questions, but can we just gloss over the ones you already know the answers to?"

"If you're a veterinarian, what are you doing here?"

He stared at her for a moment. "I think I like Sleeps-In-Late Macy better."

"So, do you actually have anything to do with the Quasars at all?"

"No."

"I see. There's the Quasar division-"

"ArtReal," he told her.

"The alien division."

"ArtReal, StarNet."

"ArtReal…is scientific focus?"

"StarNet is para-policing."

"Really?"

He was put off by the surprise she registered. "You _know_ this."

"Policing…the aliens."

He nodded.

"So, the only ones who keep an eye on the Quasars are their partners."

Geoff cocked an eyebrow and crossed his arms over his chest.

"And there are only two right now. Only two…."

"Do you feel okay?"

"Dory and Alex. Alex…lost in space somewhere?"

Geoff watched her without answering.

"Along with his Quasar partner…the only undefeated one to date."

"Undefeated?"

"Peter is only the third of his kind. The second was defeated by Alex. Or Amanda…."

"You're creeping me out."

She smiled brightly at him. "There are no more Quasars on Earth?"

"Macy—you need to drop the act or whatever it is you're doing."

"And other than Dory there is only…."

"I think I need to take you back home again."

"Daddy, no!" she pleaded, lunging and catching his arm. "I'll be good! I promise! I'll cut it out! I'm finished! Done! Through! Kaput!"

"Kaput," he repeated. "Maybe I should call Nadean. Find out if she can-"

"No! No, no, no, no-no-no! I swear it! I'll be good! No more questions! I promise!"

He didn't look convinced. "You act weird like that again and you'll never set foot in this place again." He wondered if that was even an actual threat.

"I promise! I love you! I'm a good girl! See?" She smiled big and blinked rapidly up at him.

"This is an all-new brand of creepy," he told her.

"No!"

"Fine. Stay. Let me find you something to do."

She asked, "Could I go visit John?"

"You're not going to be all spy-girl with him, are you?"

"Please?" she tried, smiling and twisting her body back and forth and behaving rather little-girlish.

"One complaint and we're done here."

"Okay. I promise."

"Let me give him a call, see if he's busy."


	13. Chapter 13

13

"So, how does one go from being an average citizen to full-fledged Quasar?" Macy asked, John's magnifying glasses low on her nose so she wouldn't have to actually look through them, a legal pad balanced on her thigh, pen in hand.

"Well, Miss, we mail out flyers advertising the perks, and as people come in we line them up and shoot this special ray-gun at them-"

She rolled her eyes. "C'mon, Dr. Happenstance, play along."

He chuckled. "I can't give you everything, you know. You might open your own business some day and run us into the ground."

"How do you decide who to pick?"

He leaned back in his high-backed chair. "We don't pick them, Macy. They volunteer. They find us or are recommended to us, and we interview them, screening out those we can't use. And once all the paperwork's been signed off on and made official, we roll the dice."

"Roll the-"

He said, "Well, we never know exactly how things are gonna turn out, do we?"

She suspected there was a lot more to it than that. "Recommended by who?"

"That's not something you need to know."

She inhaled and exhaled sharply. "What makes an ideal candidate?"

"Over the years we've tried to narrow down a specific set of qualities that seem to produce the best results."

"How long has the program been in existence?"

"Counting the early prototype days? Almost fifty years."

Her mouth popped open and he grinned. "Why doesn't anyone know about it, then?"

"We deal almost exclusively with aliens. We try to keep our Quasars out of the limelight as much as possible. Some people have heard of them, but very few have any idea what they actually are."

She leaned forward from her seat. "And they are…?"

He hesitated. "A person's dream self set free in the wakeful realm with all of their dream capabilities intact."

She processed this as she slowly settled back into her chair. "So you…handicap them to prevent them from just taking over-"

"No need. People usually aren't that coherent in their dreams."

"Some dream of glory, of power, of greatness-"

The scientist's discomfort showed plainly on his face. "Which is why they're programmed-"

"Brainwashed."

John sat quietly studying her. This was not the playful, intelligent little girl he had grown to know and become fond of. Slowly, he continued, "to protect and obey their partners."

"_Obey."_ She said it like the syllables tasted bad.

"You can't expect someone who thinks reality is a dream to adhere to rules and laws."

Her eyes narrowed and she pulled the glasses from her face. "Then…they believe that dreams are reality?"

"That's what we've surmised, yes." While she contemplated that, John asked her, "What is this about, Macy? This seems more like an interrogation than some friendly questioning, and you should already know some of this."

A smile spread slowly across her face. "I'm thinking of a career in journalism."

"Since when?"

She shrugged. "This is fun. Can I ask you a few more?"

The large man sighed. He looked tired. "Go ahead."

"What are the odds this Alex guy will return anytime soon?"

"This _Alex guy_?" His thick, dark brows beetled. "We don't know. Do I think he's even alive? Yes. So long as he has Amanda with him, I am completely convinced of that." He realized he sounded defensive and wondered if he should have sent the girl back to her father already.

"That being the case…they could potentially show up at any time."

John leaned sideways in his chair and parted his palms.

"Dory has never had a Quasar like Peter before. Not one of these physical ones."

"Correct."

"And there's another one…" She screwed up her features in thought. "Haines…Geiko?"

"He was assigned Quasar 200."

"The one Alex somehow managed to obliterate."

"Yes."

"But Haines doesn't have a partner like that now. No one does."

"Correct."

"And how would you stop Peter if he ran amok?"

His heart beating a little faster, John stared across the desk and reminded himself that this was just a clever little girl, daughter of a good-hearted man he had come to respect over the years. "Well…we have the Rings and Pan Handlers."

"Of course. And no Quasar has ever broken free of them yet."

"Well, Amanda has."

"Amanda. Has the program advanced since she was created? How long ago was that? Six years ago? Seven now?"

John's phone rang. He looked at it but didn't move.

Macy asked, "Does she have a lifespan, Dr. Happenstance? I heard five to seven years. Are you _certain_ she's still active?"

He grabbed the handset. "Doc Happenstance." His eyes cut toward his guest. "Hey, Dorreen, what can I do for you? Check him out? Of course I can. Bring him right in. I'll meet you in the Release Lab." He hung up. "You'd better report back to your father, little lady. I have work to do."


	14. Chapter 14

14

She didn't return to her father. Macy left Dr. Happenstance's office and hooked right, left, and was back at the stairwell. She descended in hops, whistling until she exited at the next floor. She knew where she wanted to go, but her memory was fuzzy. Her thoughts collided in her head the way images did when she was drifting off to sleep. It was hard to concentrate, but she felt like she had definite purpose and let her body function on something like auto pilot. She wandered past the cafeteria, striding purposefully, looking more like a short employee—an intern perhaps—instead of like a curious little girl in a dress suit. Lunch was coming up and a wonderful blend of aromas filled the hallways. She made her way to a corner of the subterranean level and walked up to the Arien glass door. No one would hear her knock, so she pushed a button near the handle that alerted the attendant inside.

What was his name again? Yogi? She kept picturing a bear. Then a bristly-faced old man approached with a questioning look on his face and unlocked the door for her.

"Ain't you Dr. McKenna's young'un?"

"I am! Hi, Smokey!"

"Wull, hullo," he replied, still mystified. "What brings you to these parts?"

"Oh, Dad brought me to work today, but he's busy so he said I could entertain myself."

"Wull, did he now? Wull, what can I do fer ya?"

She shrugged. "Just thought I'd come by and say hi."

"Oh, okay. Hi, then."

"They brought that new Quasar here yesterday, didn't they?"

"Ayuh. Why, yes they did. It's one o' them Double A's they call 'em. Not the see-through kind."

"Peter, right?"

"Ayuh" Smokey squinted as he recalled the new Quasar. "Purty sure that was him."

She said, "So…what do they do with them here? This is a shooting range, right?"

"Oh," he said, "you've never seen 'em test 'em?"

Macy shook her head no.

"Well…." He looked left, then right, then over her head. "You got a few minutes? Come in, come in, let me show ya."

She followed him through the soundproof glass door.

"You ever been in a shootin' range before?"

"Yes," she answered. "My father showed me how to shoot when I was twelve."

"Wull, how old are ya now?"

"Thirteen."

"So you're still new at it." He led her up a short flight of stairs to his office. "This here's Arien glass. Best stuff made. Best glass in the whole galaxy," he chuckled.

"It's bulletproof."

"Durn near everthin' proof. You ever seen an Arien? They call it a warrior-culture. So they make stuff strong. They make stuff that lasts."

"I've never seen a real alien," she told him.

"You live in the city?"

"I live in Connecticut."

"Wull, prob'ly there ain't gonna be many up there. But, you hang out here in New York long enough, you're bound t' come acrosst all kinds o' weird."

"I bet. So, do you have guns in here?"

"Guns? No. I don't keep any weapons in here. Now and then someone'll leave 'em fer me t'clean when they're done with 'em or need me t'sight one in for 'em, but all weapons are kept in the armory down the hall."

"Oh. So if someone wants to shoot, they go see someone…down the hall…."

Smokey nodded. "That's right. We have a beauty of a selection if you'd ever like t'see."

"Oh," said Macy, "that would be cool!"

"You want I should take ya?"

"Please!" she agreed eagerly.

When they arrived at the armory she was disappointed. The weapons were doled out by a uniformed Netcop who glared at her suspiciously despite Smokey's admonition that she was all right. The guns were kept in a large cage with several locks on it. Each one had to be signed out by authorized personnel only. She realized her access to them was unlikely.

"Thank you for the tour," she told the old man as he started walking her back to the range. "It was fascinating."

"But I was gonna show you the video where they brought that Quasar in-"

"It's okay. I was supposed to meet my dad for lunch." With that she hurried off toward the cafeteria.

She had a little money, but was not hungry, so she lingered near a doorway, pretending to wait for someone, wondering how she might get hold of a large knife. The place was crowded and people were still filling seats, so she finally departed and went to find Geoff.


	15. Chapter 15

15

He caught up to her in the hallway and didn't look the least bit pleased. "Amanda Beverly! We need to talk."

"Okay, Dad," she responded innocently.

He took her hand and led her into the stairwell, but the foot traffic made conversation impossible, so he made for the lab where he worked and once within had her perch upon a chrome stool. "I spoke with John."

"Oh, yeah?"

He scowled. "What's changed for you, Macy?"

He wanted to know why she was acting strangely. She shrugged.

"Okay, let's list what I know." He started counting on his fingers. "I proposed to Dorreen, which was not a surprise to anyone. You brought up the little brother or sister issue. You…you told me you don't want Valda around anymore. You know we're going to move once Dory and I get married. School starts soon…um…"

She noticed he'd skipped the part where Dory got a new partner.

Since she remained silent, he pressed on, "Oh, you said you wanted a puppy-"

"I don't need a puppy."

"Okay. Good. That narrows it down. So what's bothering you, Kid? Why are you running around asking questions about Quasars and stuff? Oh, and by the way, where did you go when you left John?"

At that moment the door opened and Dorreen popped in. "Hi, guys! How're my two favorite people in the world?"

Geoff straightened with a sigh. "Hey, Dory. Everything okay?"

"I wanted to see if either of you had lunch yet." The looks on their faces told her she'd interrupted something.

"That sounds great," Geoff told her, looking at his watch. "Give us a few minutes and we'll meet you…outside?"

"I'm just next door in the Release Lab," she told him. "There's something off about Peter. He's weak, lethargic, distracted or something. John's working with him right now."

"Is he waking up?"

"Hope not," she said, flashing a smile at Mace. "Hey, Kiddo, who died?"

Macy plucked at her dress suit.

"So, lunch?" she tried again.

"Could I see him?" Geoff queried.

"Uh…probably. Sure. Let's find out."

The exited into the Release Lab and Macy trailed them, uncertain if it was okay or not.

Peter sat atop a stool with wheels while several people in white lab coats walked around him taking photographs and notes.

"John," Geoff said as he neared the larger man. "What are the symptoms?"

The tall scientist lifted an eyebrow, then set his hip and nodded. "All suprahuman abilities suppressed. Attention span issues."

"May I?" Dr. Happenstance gestured for him to proceed. "Hey, Peter," he said. "Mind if I perform a little bit of an exam?"

The kid shrugged. His eyes looked hooded and dull. His coloring was bland, bordering on ashen. His lips were slack and he looked like he'd hit the floor if anyone gently poked him. Geoff set a hand atop his head and appeared to appreciate the feel of his lank, oily hair. Then he took hold of an ear, and then the other to gaze within using a penlight Dr. Halbot handed to him from her lab coat pocket. He peeled the boy's lower eyelids down, and then shone the light in his pupils while asking him to stare straight ahead.

Dr. Sanders stood to one side, looking concerned. Dr. Halbot appeared vaguely irked. "Going to check him for heartworms?" Sanders joked.

Geoff grinned, but continued his exam, parting the Quasar's lips for a look at his gums and tongue. He paused and stepped away from the kid, rubbing his fingertips together, an odd look on his face. "No euphoric feeling."

"I noticed that," mentioned Dory.

"Can we get the lights up?"

An intern went to the nearest bank of switches and illuminated the entire laboratory.

John realized, "You're looking for the distortion."

"His shadow," Geoff confirmed, stalking a circle around the boy, moving closer, than farther, angling his head. "It's absent."

"Most of his Quasar traits are either absent or weakened," Dory repeated.

"There's no separate form to work with," Happenstance grunted.

"Then we make do with what we have," Halbot told him. "Get him to Stasis until we can get him stabilized."

Stasis was a sort of hibernation chamber for Quasars. "Wait!" Macy blurted, and all eyes turned her way. Geoff narrowed his gaze and stepped aside for her when she approached the boy. "Peter?" she said softly, taking one of his hands and patting it lightly. "Hi, Peter. It's Macy McKenna. Remember me? How are you feeling? Are you okay?"

Dr. Halbot said, "What-" before a hand thrown upward by Dr. McKenna silenced her.

Peter blinked, his head tilted back and his mouth opened as he inhaled deeply. Sitting upright, he blinked repeatedly as he looked around, finally resting his gaze upon Dorreen and smiling contentedly.

Geoff took hold of Macy's arm and gently drew her away. "I see the distortion," he said. "His color has improved. Test him."

John closed in, gesturing for a tray of equipment to be wheeled closer. As the McKennas backed away, they heard the scientist announcing readings as he executed a few tests. Dory looked over at Geoff, who offered her a crooked smile and hoisted eyebrows. She looked at Macy who yawned and appeared suddenly sleepy and bored. "Are we getting lunch?" she asked her father.

"Dory?"

"I might be another hour. You two go on," she told them with an apologetic smile.


	16. Chapter 16

16

Geoff took his daughter to lunch and questioned her further about her behavior. She only shrugged while poking at her meal and muttered something about a future career in journalism. "I think you've had a little too much excitement lately. You'll be staying home tomorrow."

When they returned to ArtReal he left her in the Quasar Officer's Lounge with a couple of VHS movies and instructed her to call him before leaving the lounge.

"Even the bathroom?"

"You don't want me to make a surprise visit and not find you."

The first time he checked on her she was slouched deep in a chair watching _The Lion King_. The next time she was sound asleep and he left a can of root beer on a table beside her with a Post-It note letting her know who it was from.

Dory returned to work and Quasar 231 behaved as well as he had the day before. She promised to drop by for dinner, but not to bring her work with her.

After they got home, Geoff noticed Macy seemed to be her usual self. She complained about her father's insistence that someone check on her while he was at work the next day. She told him she was tired of Valda insinuating she was somehow inferior because she actually behaved like a thirteen year old and provided numerous examples of the older girl's poor judgment. Geoff decided to call the woman who lived two houses down and kept a pair of Bichon frises she sometimes paid Macy to walk for her, and after some argument Macy begrudgingly agreed to report to her.

Dory arrived apologetically with her Quasar in tow. "John said we need more interaction. I was afraid he could become unstable again, but John said to see if Macy could help him. He thinks maybe Peter identifies more with kids, and that's probably why he looks like a child."

Geoff made a face. "For all we know, that could mean he was a pedophile."

"They would have weeded that out in the interview stage before he was Quasared."

"You're saying you have faith the process is 100% accurate?"

Dorreen smiled. "I understand your discomfort, Geoff. The last Double A was disturbingly flawed and nobody realized it until things were way out of control. The last thing I'd ever do is put you or your family in danger-"

He lifted a hand to halt her. "_This_ family," he corrected. "This is your family."

She nodded. "I have three Rings. Once I've Panned him, he's not going to be a threat to anybody." She turned toward the boy who stood facing the hallway that led to the bedrooms. Macy stood in the doorway of her room watching him from the darkness. "And I'm going to take care of it right now." The woman reached into a pocket and withdrew the first Ring. She snapped it open and encircled the boy's upper body with it, holding in place until she'd activated its Handler. The device seemed to hover in orbit around him. Peter's form relaxed in place. His eyes closed slowly and his head drooped forward. She withdrew another from her pocket and Geoff placed a hand over her arm. "That's not necessary until we think it is. One should suffice. If he shows any sign of snapping out of it, we'll throw another on him."

"I'll set the alarm for maximum sensitivity," she said. "He so much as twitches, we'll know it."

The adults retreated to the kitchen to prepare Italian together. Geoff put some Pavarotti on the CD player and the two laughed their way through the lyrics, unable to match the man's glorious tenor. Macy was given the task of making garlic bread, and she decided it should be topped with curls of asiago and pecorino with a spiced tomato sauce on the side for dipping. While it was in the oven, she wandered into the living room where Peter stood at rest and walked around him as close as she dared, feeling her body hair stand on end when she moved too close to the Ring that kept him subdued.

He was flawless. He was exquisitely beautiful. His skin was evenly colored in shades of honeyed cream that no pimples would ever mar. His eyelashes were so fine and long that they seemed to fade at the ends rather than terminate in pointed arcs. Gold glints were picked out in his hair by the ambient light. He was odorless, his ears and nostrils were impeccably clean, and the contours of his face seemed to've been carved by the most meticulous ancient Roman sculptor. His fingernails were short and squared off and perfectly faded salmon. His lips looked slightly moist and were just a few shades of a darker pink than his nails.

Even in dark slacks with a woven belt and eggshell colored polo-style shirt that were all self-manufactured, he appeared ethereal as though he'd just stepped free of some ancient bas-relief. Macy imagined the uproar he'd cause if she brought him to school. She could pass him off as her boyfriend and all the girls would despise her!

"Bread went ding," she heard her father say.

She turned toward the kitchen. "What?"

"Your bread? The timer went ding."

"Oh. Thanks, Dad." She scampered past him and he paused a moment in the doorway to stare at the Quasar before returning to the kitchen.


	17. Chapter 17

17

She ate very little, and then excused herself saying she wanted to get to bed early. Geoff asked if she was all right and she shrugged and nodded. "I'm going to read for a little while," she said.

Macy reflected on her day while she showered. Acting aggressively around adults, making them uncomfortable with her questioning had felt strangely good. A part of her felt like it had been disrespectful to speak to her elders in the manner that she had, but another part reveled in this new- found sense of power. Oddly, she didn't really think she had it in her to do it again.

It was still fairly early when she climbed beneath the covers. She withdrew her journal from the nightstand beside her bed and plucked free the feathered pen attached to it. Inside she jotted a few lines about her day, but could not recall her dream from the previous night. It seemed significant that she remember it, but no details came to mind. She replaced the journal and picked up _The Golden Compass _by Philip Pullman, falling asleep with it in her hands not quite five full chapters later.


	18. Chapter 18

18

Spinning. The world was spinning but there was music playing and someone was guiding her so it was all right. She swung her head up from the side and was entranced by a pair of richly hued hazel eyes, the colored flecks sparkling like glitter. He had her hand in his, and his other hand rested at the curve of her back. They were surrounded by vague shapes and features in shades of muted gold, wine and pearl. Above them rotated a sphere of brilliant light that made the room seem filled with fireflies. The floor was hardwood and polished to a sunbaked maple with little patterns of colored tiles inlaid here and there. She could feel the softness of the flat shoes on her feet and deduced they were slippers of the sort worn by ballerinas and not sleepwalkers. She couldn't see her feet for the froth of tulle beneath her satin bodice. Around her waist was a fine chain lengths of pearls and crystals dangled from like icicles. She wore soft satiny gloves and could see ringlets of her hair laying heavy upon her shoulders.

Her partner's posture was proper, yet elegantly yielding to the flow of music they cavorted to. His collar stood up, but was short, exposing a fold of fabric decoratively tucked at his throat. A double row of gleaming buttons ran from his collarbones to his waist, disappearing behind a blue satin sash. He wore pale breeches that buckled below his knees, white stockings, and soft leather slip-ons that buckled beneath the tongue.

Macy felt her heart pound and her temperature rise. She felt like a porcelain doll in a music box, forever beautiful, lost in the whirlwind of dreams.

The dance went on and on, the music changing, but always the same basic melody and they moved to it without thought, the steps coming as naturally to them as taking a breath.

She closed her eyes and tilted her head back slightly when he moved his forehead toward her so he could say in her ear, "We're free, you know. Nothing can stop us. Are you ready to see the world with me?"

"The world?"

"It's ours, you know. Ours for the taking."

"The whole wide world?"

"Ours," he confirmed with a nod. The lighting changed. She looked up to see the sphere of light was nothing but the moon sailing high upon a stormy black sea. Around them were rooftops, below the fireflies had settled and now resembled city lights. "Come with me," he said, and pulled her to the very edge of the rooftop. She hesitated as he left gravity's pull and drifted just beyond her reach. "You're dreaming," he assured her.

"I'm dreaming."

"And most people can fly in their dreams. Can you, Macy? Can you fly in your dreams?"

She smiled, retreated a few steps, and then ran for the roof's edge. As she prepared to leap, her certainty wavered and she halted at the very edge, arms out for balance as she pivoted away from what could be her doom. Her breath came haltingly. She swallowed and closed her eyes. "I can fly," she told herself softly and closed her eyes. "I can fly."

He seized her beneath the armpits and hauled upward. She shrieked when they cleared the rooftop.

"You don't trust me."

_I don't know you_, she thought, but all she did was wriggle in fear as he drifted serenely high above the city streets. In the movie _Peter Pan_ she thought she recalled Peter taking Wendy's hand and guiding her through the air, her legs straight behind her and arms to the sides, but at that moment her shoulders, neck and upper back were aching, and she wished desperately that she had something to cling to.

They didn't go far before he set her on another rooftop and landed near her. "You're fighting me. I thought this would be magical."

"I'm fighting you? I thought I was gonna die!"

Peter sighed and paced, his hands behind his back. "What if I was Amanda? You trust her, don't you?" Before she could answer he shook his head and long black strands flew outward from it. When he blinked at her his eyes were that nearly colorless shade of blue she was familiar with. "Am I beautiful?" he asked, brushing hair out of his face with his fingers.

She backed away from him. Her left heel hit something and she twisted as her balance faltered. Her hands splayed outward over a background of a city street, and then the edge of the building was rushing past her. She screamed and watched the pavement rise to meet her. She was terrified of hitting power lines and incredulous that it was her most pressing concern. She could see a large truck trundling along and realized it was likely to run over her. She squeezed her eyes tightly shut and felt the world yield, then reject her with a sound like released bedsprings.

Opening her eyes, she saw she was sitting upright in her own bed, a pillow on the floor, the covers askew. She gasped for breath, he heart racing in her chest. At the foot of the bed stood Peter, Panned.

She forced herself to calm, needed the silence as she stared, barely comprehending. His eyes were open and the slight glitter of them let her know he was actively watching her. "How did you get here?"

"I need help," he told her, his voice hoarse and whispery.

Macy disentangled herself from the covers and hurried to him. "Are you okay? What's wrong?"

"I need this thing off of me. It's draining me. I want to be free."

"Dory will kill me! Not to mention Dad…."

"She doesn't know it's killing me. Every time she puts it on me, I feel like I'm fading further and further away."

"Where is she? I'll tell her!"

"She's not here. Hurry, Macy…I feel so weak…."

She saw his eyes roll back into his skull. He seemed very pale, his lips dry and cracked. Dark shadows ringed his eyes. "I have the Handler," she said, looking for it. Someone had set it on her dresser. She picked it up. "So I'm in control," she whispered, lifting it to squint at the controls in the darkness. She reached for one of the lamps on her dresser and infused the room with soft, warm pink light. The device had three buttons on it and none of them were labeled. She had no idea how to operate it. Looking Pete's way from behind, she pressed the button closest to her. The boy jolted and thrashed before freezing in what looked like a tremendously uncomfortable position. She tried the second button and he relaxed abruptly, head to the side, arms flopping uselessly down by his hips. The Ring lost its metallic luster and dropped to the floor. Peter collapsed bonelessly and Macy darted to his side. "Are you okay?"

He uttered a soft moan with every exhalation. His hands rose, found her, and clung to her pajama top as his respiration increased. "Macy," he whispered, then louder and with greater urgency, _"Macy!"_

"I'm here, I'm here," she assured him, caressing his cheek and finding herself filling with an amazing sensation of bliss. "Oh, Peter…."

His voice cracked as he pressed his forehead against her, "You saved me."

"Are you okay now?"

"Oh, thank you, thank you," he groaned.

She pushed sweat-damp strands of hair from his forehead. He scooted closer to her and pushed himself slowly into a sitting position, caressing her cheek. Her eyelids fell and she felt strangely warm. Peter's fingers traced her jaw, lightly toyed with her earlobe. She had both hands on his face as the wonderful sensation of peace and comfort enveloped her. His fingers worked their way toward the base of her neck and then he drew her toward him until their breath mingled. She watched him through drowsy blue eyes, mesmerized by the kaleidoscopic shifting of colors in his animated irises.


	19. Chapter 19

19

Dory sat upright in bed, one pillow on the floor, the covers askew. She was breathing hard and her heart was racing. The phone rang again and she jumped up and scurried to the kitchen to answer it. "Dory Perandah," she said breathlessly, momentarily wondering how long it would take her to start answering as Dory McKenna. There was a StarNet Sergeant on the other end. She listened to him tell her about a situation in the Black Hole near a club called Comet Rock. Apparently an alien had been struck and injured by a taxi, and witnesses were claiming another alien had pushed him into its path.

She said she'd be on site promptly, pulled on a bra, T-shirt and jeans. She combed her hair and drew it back into a short pony tail. Dory preferred to carry her badge in a wallet that hung from her belt. She donned it and grabbed her Colt 91 series .45 caliber handgun, sliding it into the holster that allowed it to vanish beneath her waistband. She turned on the TV for a quick check of the weather and pulled her high-top sneakers on. She opted against a jacket, then grabbed Pete's Pan Handler and deactivated it. The Quasar wavered, and she caught him as he fell. He slumped weakly against her, clutching at her, and she realized the near-giddy sensation his touch produced seemed absent.

"Peter? Are you okay?" The boy looked ashen, his eyes sunken into dark sockets.

"Dory…." He said just barely above a whisper.


	20. Chapter 20

20

She realized she was in his arms, floating near the ceiling of her bedroom. "You don't fear falling?"

Smiling, she slowly withdrew from him, hovering in mid-air, their fingers entwined. "Guess I just had to think happy thoughts," she replied.

He drew one of her hands to his lips to kiss the back of it. "Aren't I better than your sad little fantasies of some father figure who'll never give you the attention you crave?"

She tossed his hand away and willed herself toward her bedroom window. She unlatched it, lifted it, and pushed the screen out as she emerged into cool night air.

"Wait for me!" he chimed in her wake.


	21. Chapter 21

21

Geoff stirred when the phone rang. "The calf is coming," he murmured. "Gotta help the cow…." The room seemed unfamiliar. He was living in a small rented house in Connecticut, not the medium-sized home he once owned in Montana. He worked for ArtReal Artificial Realities, not Whispering Pine Veterinary Hospital. He was used to sleeping with his phone nearby, so he snatched it up and blurted, "Huh-Whisp-Geoff-hello?"

Laughter on the other end. "Dr. McKenna?"

He sat up and ran a hand through his hair. "Yes?"

"Would it be possible for you to bring your daughter to ArtReal, ASAP?"

He squinted at his alarm clock. "ASAP? What's wrong? You need _Macy?_"

"Quasar Two thirty-one is exhibiting the same symptoms as yesterday and we were wondering if she could assist us."

"You're kidding. You really think she did something?"

"Dr. McKenna, we had to dispatch Officers Perandah and Geiko to the Black Hole tonight to quell a disturbance because Two thirty-one is currently out of commission. Your daughter seemed to help pull him out of it yesterday. We need a quick fix, Geoffery. Dory and Haines may need him."

"ASAP, Dr. Halbot," he told her and hung up.

He pulled on jeans and a Henley shirt, a belt, socks and hiking boots. He hurried to Macy's room to wake her and get her dressed for travel.


	22. Chapter 22

22

"Halbot," the woman said briskly into the phone.

"Dr. Halbot, I can't wake Macy up."

She knew Geoff would have tried every trick he could think of. "Has she returned to a catatonic state?"

"She murmurs, she snores, and she acts like she's asleep."

"Has she said anything intelligible?"

"'No,' maybe. Like, 'No, no.' She kind of giggled once."

"REM present?"

"Yes. She appears to be in a dream state."

"Has this happened before?"

"I couldn't wake her yesterday, but she eventually woke on her own…extremely easily," he recalled, putting pieces together, "and she was unusually energetic, talkative, and…aggressive."

"All day?"

"No. She seemed to return to her old self…after…after the incident with Peter."

"Bring her in."

"Soon as I can," he promised, beginning to grow angry.


	23. Chapter 23

23

ArtReal medical technicians and scientists met him at the double front doors. They had a cart they set Macy on and even as they wheeled her toward their emergency facility, they were taking her temperature and checking her blood pressure, asking McKenna rapid-fire questions.

He let them wheel her into one of the ER suites, and then turned toward Halbot. "What on earth is going on here?"

She gestured for him to follow. "The Quasar is unstable. It's almost as though he's become weak and delirious. He mutters gibberish and writhes, though is in no pain so far as we can discern."

"How is my daughter connected to this?"

"We have no idea. Dr. Canada will apprise us of her condition and then we'll attempt to discern the connection, if any."

He grabbed at her sleeve. "Is Dorreen in danger?"

"The Net sent in a backup of twenty men in two wagons. It looks like a drunken brawl. She should be okay. We ordered them not to pursue any fugitives."

"Fugitives?"

"We don't have details," she snapped dismissively, surging forward and pushing through a door on her way to the Quasar Creation Laboratory.

Peter lay on a contoured slab of Capricorn gel, devices affixed to his head, a camera inches from his face. Monitors showed either his face or brightly colored images of his brain. Dr. Sanders, the department head, stood behind a bank of equipment, the top of his head barely visible. "Something's disrupting his brainwaves," the man mentioned. "He's unable to focus his thoughts. When we show him the color red, the corresponding part of his brain that should recognize it flares, then quickly fades out while other patterns—seemingly random ones—take precedence."

Geoff said, "He can't hold an image in his mind long enough to recognize and react to it."

"Oh, hello, Dr. McKenna," Sanders said. "Sorry to drag you out of bed."

"Not a problem," Geoff replied, approaching the equipment bank.

"For some reason, Macy was able to help draw Two thirty-one out of this same state yesterday. My best guess is that is has to do with her resemblance to Officer Perandah."

There had been times when Geoff, Dory and Macy had been out and about together and people had assumed they were already a family. "There's a big difference between them."

"Well size, yes, and age, but what I'm suggesting is that whatever caused our subject to envision himself as a ten year old boy might've distorted his perception of Dorreen when we were performing his obedience programming."

Geoff made a face and shook his head. "Then he'd be obedient to Macy if he thinks she's just a younger version of her."

"It's our best guess at the moment. I'm going to attempt to repeat the procedure-"

"How, if you can't focus his thoughts?"

Sanders said, "Dr. German is on his way. We'll hold off until we get his opinion."

Frustrated, McKenna raised his arms as if he was going to clutch his head, then brought them down haltingly as he began to pace. Dr. Halbot watched him keenly. The assembled assistants stayed out of his way. "Is possession one of his traits?"

"We saw no evidence of it," Halbot answered.

"Dream influence?"

"That one is hard to detect in advance-"

"If he has her in some kind of thrall because he psychically entered her dreams, then how would we pull him back?"

Halbot smiled, but Sanders repeated, "Dr. German will be here soon."

"John's on vacation," Jacqueline told him, nearing to draw him out into the hall. "I was with him when he made this one."

"If this is connected to my daughter," he said, so agitated he didn't seem to know what to do with his hands.

"We'll figure it out," she said.

"I don't know what I'll do."

"I'd like you to observe our progress with the Quasar. I like the way your mind works. You think fast, logically, and have good ideas."

He offered her a weak smile. "They probably won't let me in there with Macy."

"They'll keep you updated. They'll let you know what they find."

"And it's in my best interest to stay away from the Black Hole."

"Ah. I heard about your engagement. Congratulations," Halbot told him, but it sounded automatic and not sincere at all.

He sighed. "What can I do, then?"

"Just observe. Don't be afraid to ask questions, pose suggestions, or express your concerns. You have a unique perspective because of your background."

"Veterinary medicine," he said, nodding.

"And your hobby, parapsychology."

He eyed her strangely, but the scientist turned away to return to the lab.


	24. Chapter 24

24

An assistant answered the sharp rap on the door and listened. He turned to look for Geoff, and then gestured to him. McKenna left Dr. Sanders' side and hurried over to see a uniformed NetMedic in the hallway. "Dr. McKenna?" He nodded. "Come with me."

He assumed he was being led to his daughter, so he didn't ask anything.

"Your daughter has become extremely aggressive."

"Aggressive?"

"We've already given her Nembutal, and it hasn't affected her in the least."

Geoff's blood ran cold. Nembutal, also known as pentobarbital, was commonly used to euthanize animals. He kept a small supply of it himself for emergency use. "Why wasn't I consulted first?"

At that moment they heard something like a shrill, muffled scream and broke into a run. The ER door was locked. Geoff beat his fists against it and hollered. "_Macy!_ This is your father! I'm coming to get you! Somebody open the door!" They heard something like growling and a crash followed by a thud. The door eventually unlocked and a second NetMed squeezed past it before they could get in.

"It's like she's on amphetamines or something! Holy crap!"

Geoff stared at the disheveled guy for a moment, then pried the door open and peered inside. Dr. Shannon Canada was pinned to a wall by the legs of a stool. _"Macy!" _McKenna roared.

Her head turned slowly. _"What am I doing here?"_ she screamed.

Her vehemence was astounding. He had never seen her so wild, never heard her so loud. As he cautiously entered the room and approached her, he said, "You wouldn't wake up, sweetie. I tried everything I could think of and I couldn't get you to wake up."

"_This is where they Quasar people!"_ she shrieked.

"Yes. Something happened to Peter. Remember how he seemed funny yesterday? Kind of run down and almost like he was tired or sick?" He stood to one side behind her and didn't reach for her.

"Peter? Again?"

"We brought you here to see if you could help him. Like you did yesterday."

"Oh," she said, and her gaze grew vacant. The doctor behind the legs of the stool took hold of it and gently moved it away so he could extract himself from the corner. The girl didn't really seem to notice.

Geoff stared at her with the blank white wall behind her and it felt for a moment like his heart had stopped beating. He reached slowly for her to pat her shoulder. "He's in the Quasar Creation Lab. Are you ready to see if you can help him again?"

She smiled and nodded, but it seemed as if her mind was elsewhere. Geoff lifted a finger and allowed it to brush lightly against her cheek. Withdrawing his hand, he felt queasy.


	25. Chapter 25

25

NetMedics trailed them through the halls and whenever one of them tried to get his attention, Geoff gestured for them to remain quiet. He sped up and put a hand on Macy's back, slowing her so he could get to the laboratory door first. He knocked and was admitted by Halbot.

"I've brought Macy to see if she can help revive him."

Jacqueline looked down at the girl and frowned slightly. Miss McKenna was trying to peer past her into the room instead of displaying her usual reserved, polite manner.

The scientist kept her voice down. "Dr. German is here." She tried to open the door for them, and was surprised to find Geoff was holding it in place.

"Is the boy Panned?" he asked, making certain he had eye contact with her before nodding very slightly.

Her eyes narrowed for a second and the returned the movement, adding, "No. He's on the table," while admitting them into the lab. She stepped aside and watched Macy enter cautiously, her eyes locked on the prone form before them. The lights were down except for what shone on the subject beneath the equipment array over the gel platform. Halbot looked up at Geoff while reaching into one of the deep pockets of her lab coat. She passed a Ring to him and he nodded at her again.

Macy slowed as she approached the illuminated figure. Drs. Sanders and German murmured behind the equipment bank beside the far wall. Geoff tugged at the yielding alien material, snapping it rigid before he quickly dropped it over his daughter's form from behind. "Now!" he said, and Dr. Halbot used a Handler to activate it.

"Lights," said Halbot, and one of the medics turned them on.

Dr. German blurted, "You Panned your daughter?"

Geoff grabbed the girl by the shoulders and manhandled her before a stretch of blank white wall. "Look!"

It took a moment for them to see it. "He's possessing her remotely," Dr. Halbot realized, closing her eyes.

The boy on the table appeared frail and frightened. "Macy?" he asked softly.

"You keep your mouth shut!" McKenna snapped.

"Is she all right?" he managed to ask before his eyes rolled back into his head and he writhed weakly in some sort of mild convulsion.

"Are you certain?" Sanders queried.

Geoff turned toward the NetMed who'd summoned him. "Tell him what you told me."

"She woke up violent," the young man confessed. "We couldn't restrain her. We gave her Nembutal."

"My God," murmured German.

"Get her on a table," Sanders commanded. "We need to see what's going on in her brain."


	26. Chapter 26

26

Alex was the first non-Quasar who had ever been Panned. Possessed by his partner, whose touch made one drowsy, the subduing device had made him uncomfortable and disrupted his concentration, making him appear drunk. Quasar 169 possessed people by literally occupying their physical forms. Remote possession or possession without physical contact of some sort was a new ability as far as the ArtReal scientists were concerned.

"Peter Pan," said Geoff. "It's his shadow. It has a mind of its own. How could this happen? Did the subject have a conjoined twin? Maybe an identical twin that died? Multiple personality disorder?"

Dorreen was being treated by NetMeds for scratches, contusions, a hematoma on her right calf, and a sprained wrist. The other Quasar Force Officer, Haines Geiko, was being x-rayed.

"We don't know where they come from," his fiancée said. "It's possible he lied to the interviewer."

"But, the psychological profile-"

"There are a few individuals who know how to fake them."

"How do I get my hands on his file?"

She put a hand on his arm. "You know they're confidential. What difference does it make anyway? What's important is what we're going to do about this now."

He shook his head. "But if I knew something about his background, his history-"

"You're a veterinarian," she reminded him.

"And?"

"Do you know the backgrounds of all the animals you've treated? Did you know their histories?"

He smiled and kissed her cheek. "How do you get rid of a shadow?"

"Turn out the lights."

"Then everything is shadow," he told her as the medic finished bandaging her wrist.

"Turn up the light."

"The shadow shrinks, but it's still there in any little nook or cranny it can find."

"Then there's always shadow."

He shook his head. "You remove whatever the light's shining on. Whatever's casting it."

He helped her down from the examination table and she stood looking up into his blue eyes. "Destroy the Quasar."

"He's obviously faulty."

"God, Geoff, that's so heartless."

He paused. "You're saying they're still human, then? Because I'm pretty sure there are a ton of laws that should protect them from what gets done to them here."

She thanked the attendant medic and signed herself out, then accompanied Geoff down the hall toward the elevator. "They sign away their rights when they volunteer."

"Isn't that why they can't have any close living relatives? To avoid lawsuits? Do you believe they're all volunteers? Do you ever wonder if any of them are wards of the state or terminally ill patients who've agreed to a little experimentation? Prisoners, maybe? The mentally ill? Enemies of the state?"

"Enemies of the state? What are you, some kind of conspiracy theorist now?"

"Have you ever wondered?" he persisted as the doors parted and they stepped into the car.

"Well, sure, but-"

"Weren't the first experimental soldiers, the quasi-realities, the very first Quas-R's military 'volunteers'?" He made quote marks in the air with his fingers.

"The very first ones…the ones Walter Neville first experimented on…were homeless men and a second or third cousin of his own. But after that, yes, when the military was funding his research, they used soldiers. They were men who had been injured in combat who volunteered without any real knowledge of what they were getting into."

They exited the elevator and approached the cafeteria. Dory agreed to eat with him and then she was going home for the day to rest. "So who do you think they are now, Dory? This place doesn't advertise. People rarely ever see us or have any idea what we do. All they know is that we help keep the peace between the citizens of Earth and the visitors from space."

"I don't know," she said, and she sounded tired.

"Do you think it's still homeless people? Runaways? The forgotten and the lost? Just how stable do you think any given one of them is? Do you think they'd lie in an interview if they thought there was food or shelter or compensation involved?"

The blonde only shook her head. As she reached for a tray, Geoff seized one for her and set two on the parallel aluminum bars that outlined the food station. "I get what you're saying. Whatever Peter was in real life, he may not have been a sparkling example of humanity."

"We know nightmares are the key to creating a Double A Quasar. Something about waking prematurely in the middle of the process." She pointed at a fruit cup and he set one on her tray. "What I'm saying is, what if they're mining for subjects who are especially prone to them?"

"Mining…you mean actively seeking. Grab me a bagel."

"Poppy seed?"

"Cinnamon swirl. With maple whipped cream cheese." She nodded and moved along until they confronted a young woman with Asian features in a white chef's coat and cocked hat. "A poached egg over Canadian bacon with rarebit."

"Hollandaise," Geoff corrected.

"I like the sharpness of rarebit."

"As the lady pleases," he said. "I'll take a rib eye and jalapeno omelet with Colby jack, English muffins toasted dark brown with cranberry jelly."

"Cranberry sauce?" asked Dory, cocking an eyebrow.

"It's delicious with peanut butter, too."

The chef asked him, "How many eggs?"

"Three."

"Blended with milk or water?"

"Grated parmesan."

The woman nodded and left to complete their orders.

Geoff opted for cranberry juice and Dory asked for half chai, half cranberry juice sweetened with honey. They gathered utensils and napkins and found places to sit.

"Do you think they're abducting people?"

"No," he answered. "I'm under the impression they're narrowing down a profile of the ideal candidate to be turned into a Double A. So maybe they're fishing in places they suspect are sweet spots."

"Artists have more nightmares than anybody else."

"Artists," he repeated, nodding. "But most of them are flamboyant, trying to get their names out there-"

"Not necessarily," she said, tasting her tea blend. "Many are shy loners who are most comfortable communicating through their art."

"But, if they're any good, they're generally known."

"Graffiti artists," she suggested.

"Ah. I've heard there's an astonishing spray-paint Mona Lisa ten feet high in an abandoned subway tunnel inhabited by homeless people."

"But Geoff…again, what difference does this make?"

"I'm just trying…to map everything out before I plot the course."

Dory nodded. "I love the way your mind works. Personally, I'd have had the kid at gunpoint and demanded he give you your daughter back."

Geoff asked, "How did the weapons and combat tests go?"

"You shoot him, he doesn't realize he's been struck. No wound, no reaction aside from flinching from the sound."

He put a hand to his mouth and considered his options. "Macy said we treat him like a dog."

"You're going to euthanize him?"

"The thought crossed my mind," he admitted. "How do you get a dog to surrender something to you?"

"Like a stick or a ball? You mean a bad dog that won't spit or lie down when you tell him to?"

"Right."

"Give him a treat?"

"You offer something better," he agreed.

"Something better than Macy. Why is he so attracted to Macy?"

McKenna scowled. "Sanders tried to feed me some nonsense about how he's programmed to respond to her instead of you because you look enough alike, and whatever caused him to see himself as younger makes him think she's a younger version of you."

Dory blinked. "You really think we look alike?"

"Not especially. Aside from the fact we're all blond and blue-eyed."

"My eyes are grey."

"They look blue when you wear blue. Mine look grey when it's overcast."

"Whatever."

"I think they're just grasping at straws."

Their food arrived. They thanked the young man who brought it and Geoff requested chipotle sauce for his omelet.

"You weren't thinking of me, were you?"

He looked at her strangely. "I'm always thinking of you."

"No, I mean for the bait or whatever. The treat."

"You? Aw, heck no! You're _my_ treat!" he said. "No…I was thinking something more along the lines of Amanda."

"But we don't have another Double A."

"We only have to make him think that we do."


	27. Chapter 27

27

"Stable, but no stronger," Halbot informed him. "And I'm afraid your daughter is the same."

"What options have you considered?"

She said, "We debated trying out the equipment on her. We thought that if we began the process, she might be able to force him out of herself."

"Absolutely not. Under no circumstances are you to employ any of the equipment used to make Quasars on her."

The woman frowned. "I suppose you have an idea of your own you'd like to try?"

"You use hypnosis and imagery to program the Quasars-"

"The Quasar would ideally be intact before we would try to reprogram him. So long as he maintains control of Macy, there's the risk that whatever procedure we performed on him might simultaneously occur to her remotely."

He hadn't considered that and the notion frightened him. "I don't want to reprogram him. I want…to induce a nightmare."

Jacqueline considered his suggestion. "You believe that in order to defend himself, he will withdraw from her so he can fully utilize all of his faculties."

"What's the worst that happens to her? She has the nightmare, too."

"There's no guarantee Peter will surrender her physical housing. He may decide to remain with her, to use her as a shield."

"And again, the worst that happens to her is that she experiences a nightmare." He scooted to the edge of his seat in the Quasar Force Officer's Lounge. "Either it works, or it doesn't. It's not likely to make anything worse."

The woman smiled archly. "We'll have to use the equipment."

"I'm skilled with hypnosis," he informed her.

"Well, that's fascinating, Dr. McKenna, but you could only create a nightmare for your daughter. You have no idea what scares 231."

Geoff inhaled deeply. "It's part of his confidential files."

She nodded. "I can access them with permission, but we _will_ be using Quasaring equipment, and you will_ not_ be present."

Geoff told her, "Initially, no. I realize you don't need everyone learning about any Quasar's given history or weaknesses, but after the nightmare is in progress I_ insist_ on being present in case anything untoward should happen to my child."

Jacqueline allowed an eyebrow to drift upward. "Let me run it by Sanders. We appreciate your input."


	28. Chapter 28

28

He had convinced Dorreen to linger, and so she had agreed to nap at work. The third floor of ArtReal contained not only a lounge, but a very nice suite of rooms once utilized exclusively by the creator of the Quasar Program, Walter Neville, a former WWII pilot. After his demise, the well-appointed rooms had been maintained for the use of the facility's next owner, David Roglitz, who had reserved the entire floor for important meetings and the discreet entertaining of dignitaries. So long as the area was available, ArtReal's top scientists, the Quasar Force, and StarNet's highest ranking officers could use it as they pleased. Geoff knew Dory would prefer the comfortable bedroom upstairs over a padded bench in the women's locker room or a couch in the Quasar Force Officer's Lounge.

He exited the stairwell and strolled down the brief hallway to a door on the left. The room was spacious with its own huge, multi-head shower, a king-sized bed, and a television. He concealed the small implements he carried that allowed him to pick most locks, removed his footwear, and crept into the room. Dory had darkened the windows and left a stereo on very softly. The last wisps of an imported incense floated upward from the joss stick she had lit in a far corner, and the space smelled lightly of frankincense, cinnamon and vanilla. She had stripped off her jeans and socks and lay with a faux mink throw draped haphazardly across her middle.

He smiled at her for some moments before he moved over to the chair where she had left her belongings and rifled through them.


	29. Chapter 29

29

Macy knew she was not alone, but had no idea where she was. Soft, peach-colored light seemed to infuse her world, and when she opened her eyes she realized it was the sun's glare that that was blinding her. When she tried to move, she felt like she was embedded in something and discerned it was damp sand. It appeared as if she had washed ashore. Warm water eased up repeatedly to kiss her toes. She pulled herself into a reclining position, propped on one elbow, and saw pretty, opalescent flakes shift and shimmer down from her hips and legs like glitter. She rolled onto her belly and squinted at her surroundings, loose strands of hair catching in her eyelashes. Seagulls cried in the distance and a fairly steady breeze blew. Whenever it lulled she felt the warmth of the sun soaking into her skin. When it picked up enough speed it carried hints of a chill and a promise of rain.

Surprisingly close to the shore there was a tall ship painted a deep red with pale trim, her sails patched and repatched many times. A long, bright red streamer undulated before her bow. On board she could see some sort of activity and heard black powder bursts. As she watched, a little figure shot up toward the crow's nest and lean figures crawled the rigging after it. The figure dove, there was the ring of steel on steel, a _yowlp_ and a splash as someone went overboard. She considered swimming toward it to see what was going on, but then the slender figure flew an orbit around the vessel before zipping toward the shore. She sat up and discovered she was nude. To her dismay, the being noticed her and altered course. She dragged a clump of seaweed into her lap and clutched two clam shell halves to her chest.

"Oh, it's you," she said when he landed and approached her.

"Aw—you're not a mermaid."

"I need clothes," she said, remaining seated.

"Where am I supposed to find a mall out here?" He gestured around them. Now that she was no longer at ground level, she thought the place they occupied looked less like some random beach and more like the shore of a small island.

"Grab me some leaves and vines or something then."

Peter scowled and looked around, then flew back toward the ship.

She didn't want to be found nude, so she scooted her way to the water and rolled onto her belly again, using her hands to pull herself into deeper water whenever a slight wave buoyed her.

The boy returned a few minutes later with some balled-up fabric in his hands. He saw the drag-marks on the beach and followed them with his eyes until he spotted the girl again. "Here ya go," he said, dropping the loose items on her.

She grabbed at some kind of dress and a belt. "You stole some lady's clothes?"

"It's one of the captain's shirts I think," he told her. "It was being boiled."

"Boiled?"

"Y'know, laundry?" He was upright, just above the waves, arms crossed over his chest. He was wearing sage green colored jeans over black and white basketball shoes, a loose, deep green polo shirt billowing gently about his lean form in the breeze.

"I can't dress in the water," she decided. "Look away."

"Like I'd want to see anything you've got," he snorted, moving head-first toward the shore.

This really_ is_ like _Peter Pan_, she thought excitedly. This must be Captain Hook's shirt! It was white, which worried her. She sat in the shallows with her back to the boy, who seemed to be busy surveying the area, and struggled with the sodden fabric until she figured out where the bottom was and pulled it over her head. Captain Hook is huge, she thought as volumes of fabric waved around her in the water. She tried to roll up the long sleeves, but they wouldn't lay right. The cloth was dense enough that it did not appear see-through, but it still clung to her like a half-melted second skin.

She stood and wrung what she could from the lower half, then applied the belt which was far too long, drawing it into a kind of knot. When she turned, Peter was right behind her.

She felt her cheeks flush as his gaze wandered downward. "It does sorta look like a dress on you," he grunted, then turned and glided back up over the sand.

Macy paused when she saw the place where she had awakened. The trough her lower body had compressed into the wet sand was full of shimmery flakes and the imprint…very much resembled a large fish's tail.

"C'mon, 'c'mon," Peter urged, waving her way. Rowboats had been put in the water, so the pirates were presumably coming after them.

"You're magical," she accused, picking her way across the shell-strewn sand. "Why not just make them disappear or something?"

"This is _your_ realm," he told her. "You're the one who thinks of me as some stupid storybook character."

"What?"

"You want them gone,_ you_ make them disappear. You're the one in control here. I'm just along for the ride." He held a hand out to her from the back seat of a taxicab. The rain started falling harder, so she splashed her way over and he moved so she could climb in beside him.

Slamming the door shut, she groped for her seatbelt, "Where are we going?"

Pete shrugged and looked irritated. "Your fantasy—you tell me."

She thought about her father and felt bad like she needed to apologize to him or something. The driver turned around then, and Peter hollered. The cabbie was some menacing figure with a rough beard and moustache, a patch over one eye. Macy shrieked and the two flung the cab's door wide and raced out into the rainy night.


	30. Chapter 30

30

"They're ready for you," the young man in a lab coat told him, shaking him gently.

McKenna had dozed off in a chair in the QForce lounge. The computer screen that emerged from the tabletop before him showed images of the many incarnations of Peter Pan from plays and film. "Were you a fan?" he asked the guy, guessing his age to be somewhere in his mid-twenties.

"Nah. I saw the Disney film and maybe part of the one with Robin Williams in it…but I don't think I ever actually met anyone who would consider themselves a Peter Pan fan."

"Except for the peanut butter."

"Who doesn't like peanut butter?" the young man agreed.

He trailed him back to the lab. A heavy black curtain had been drawn around the door, and Geoff pushed it aside as he entered. He made his way to the equipment bench and found a spot to stand behind the attendant scientists.

"Welcome back, Dr. McKenna," said Dr. Sanders. "We've run a few tests and got encouraging results with the stimuli we're using. His brain actually begins to focus as we lure him back slightly out of stage 3-4 sleep."

"These monitors represent your daughter's brain," Dr. German explained, gesturing to the station before him. "We are getting similar results from her when we stimulate him."

Geoff wished they wouldn't use that word. The whole idea that some strange young male had forced his way into his daughter's mind already made him extremely uncomfortable. "So, they're both having the same nightmare?"

"No," Leslie German said. "Not necessarily. He's getting the images directly, all she's sharing are the feelings associated with them. She'll pair the emotions with her own imagery."

"I don't see any images," he noted.

Sanders responded, "we enter them into the program by how intensely Peter is expected to respond to them based upon his psychiatric profile."

"So, you don't even know what he's looking at any given time?"

"Correct."

"Then…how do you induce nightmares?"

Dr. German supplied, "Nightmares are the body's way of alerting the brain that there's something wrong. A backfire on the street is a gunshot to the dreamer. A ringing telephone is a dream fire-alarm. A hungry, meowing cat becomes a wailing infant."

Dr. Sanders added, "A slight breeze stirs a sleeping person's long hair and they dream a spider runs across their neck or shoulder. A pet sleeping across the dreamer's legs makes them think they're trapped in quicksand. Of course these are only examples and don't translate identically for everyone."

McKenna was quiet for a moment. "So, primitive man, asleep in a cave or in a nest of grasses between the roots of a tree dreams of a pouncing lion when a falling branch strikes the earth nearby."

"Exactly," said Leslie. "He dreamed of blizzard conditions and woke to find his fire had gone out. He has a nightmare about drowning and wakes to find his cave flooding from heavy rain. A nightmare bee is a real-life rat's bite. So, we introduce images we believe the subject finds disturbing and combine them with discordant sounds, frightening light effects. The more discomfort he feels, the more likely he is to step into a nightmare. We can raise and lower his core temperature, tilt the bed suddenly, make him think his bladder is full, or his skin is itching."

"That sounds like how you create Double A's, not what you're doing right now."

"It is. I just wanted to let you know what options we have."

Geoff said, "So what you're trying to do here is shock him back into his own body."

"Precisely."

"And if that doesn't work?"

"One thing at a time, Geoff," Sanders murmured.


	31. Chapter 31

31

"This is where you want to be? The city?"

They walked side by side along the sidewalk. Peter wore loose-fitting black denim jeans with a dark green T-shirt featuring denuded tree branches and a large raven. Macy wore dark blue jeans and a ruffle-necked cotton top. "Where I want to be?" she repeated.

He gestured about. "Don't you already live here?"

"I live in Connecticut."

"Well, where have you always wanted to go?"

She shrugged. "I dunno. Australia? India? Africa?"

Peter sighed. "But, this is your realm. You don't have to visit places that already exist. You could go to Narnia or Atlantis, on board the _Enterprise_ or the _Millennium Falcon_."

"Oh," she said, and the boy watched their environment shift as she considered that, but everything returned to faded light and shadows streaked silver by the rain. "I'm not sure…I feel…strange."

"Like how?"

"Like…like I want to run away or something."

"That's what we're here for!" he told her, giving his arms a flap.

She felt like she wanted to run away from _him._

A passing police car gave a quick blurp of its siren, and Peter jumped. He panted as he watched it roll away. "What're _they_ here for?"

Macy shrugged. "They're everywhere."

"You keep forgetting this isn't real."

Irritated, the girl turned suddenly and ran. She heard Peter shout before she sped around a corner and then, heart pounding, she leapt, but only found herself about three feet from the ground, straining for altitude. As she fought to fly, she wound up flipping over in slow motion until she got caught in the underside of a shop front awning.

"Macy!" she heard the boy yell and turned her head to try and see where he was. He called her name again, sounding closer, but she couldn't see him. Then he sounded farther away and she figured he was airborne too, unable to see her beneath the canvas.

Well, that worked well, she thought, trying to will herself to the ground. She managed to free herself from the awning, but drifted like a bubble, slowly moving and still turning uncontrollably end over end. She hated dreams like that where she knew she ought to have control, but had instead apparently lost it. She actually snagged a street sign and worked her way down it.

It was dark, but she didn't know the hour. Shops and eateries surrounded her, but not all of them were open. She wanted to find a phone, call her father or Dorreen, but was leery of being trapped inside a place where all of the exits opened into other rooms and she might never find her way back out again.

She heard screaming and sirens. Glass breaking. The sound of something mechanical grew loud and thrummed menacingly. Above her, small, disc-like objects descended through the maze of towering concrete. Aliens of some sort, and it seemed they indicated trouble.

She didn't know whether to find out what was happening or to flee. Against her better judgment she decided to head straight toward the chaos. If they were aliens, then someone from StarNet or the Quasar Force would soon appear.


	32. Chapter 32

32

Peter's eyes worked madly behind his lids. He flinched and writhed, making occasional soft noises. His respiration and heart rate were both up.

"We're going to need all non-essential personnel to clear the room," Dr. Sanders stated. "You, too, Geoff."

"What?" Things were getting exciting.

"The problem we have now is that since we've introduced his brain to stressful stimuli, his abilities might manifest even though he's asleep."

"You mean, like a sleepwalker acting out a dream."

"Unfortunately. Since we know one of his abilities is the manifestation of physical illusions, it's always possible he could manifest a weapon or a monster or something that could actually cause us harm. Dr. German and I will remain, but-"

"My daughter," he said. "Can she be removed for safety?"

Dr. German answered, "It isn't likely he would attack himself. So long as a part of him remains with her, she should be safe."

"Forgive my lack of confidence," McKenna told them, "but you're guessing. You've never done anything like this before."

There was a brief silence, and then Warren Sanders called back two of the assistants who were heading for the exit. "Put her in the Sleep Lab."

Dr. German corrected, "Put her in Stasis."

McKenna closed his eyes and exhaled with relief.

He trailed the white-coated assistants as they moved Macy down the hall, monitoring devices still performing their duty, transmitting data back to the lab. The girl was still, her lips slightly parted, seemingly at ease. But now and then her forehead creased or her fingers clenched and her father knew she was experiencing something troubling, though not necessarily nightmarish.

"Dr. McKenna," said Dr. Halbot, reaching into her deep jacket pocket to retrieve a bottle of white tea, still cold from the cafeteria.

"Thank you." He was stunned she knew he enjoyed that particular beverage.

"Where are they taking her?"

"Stasis," he answered. "They were afraid he might begin manifesting nightmares in our reality, so Sanders asked all non-essentials to leave."

She tugged at his sleeve and he watched the padded table with his daughter on it turn through a doorway. Jacqueline lowered her voice. "I can't tell you what this Quasar fears, but I can admit I'm under the strong impression that he doesn't get along well with authority figures."

"Do you mean…he was a prisoner or something? A criminal?"

She shook her head and took a step back from him.

Geoff's mind raced. "That could explain why he didn't connect to Dory." Halbot was walking away from him. He held his tongue rather than thank her.


	33. Chapter 33

33

Macy wanted to return to ArtReal, but she wasn't sure where she was in relation to its location. When she tried to get directions, the people she asked gave her bizarre instructions. It seemed as if they intentionally wanted her to remain lost, or they tried to get her to step within buildings and she somehow knew that they were all traps.

How long have I been here, she wondered. School starts soon….

Valda grabbed her from behind and she shrieked. "Oh, my God! Did you see the aliens? I don't know what they were! They were totally trashing the city!"

Macy had been making her way toward the commotion until the strange sounds and bloodied, injured people racing past her in the opposite direction finally frightened her away. "Are you okay?"

"They got my parents, Macy! I'm going to have to stay with you now."

"No!" She hadn't meant to sound rude. "You can't! My dad is getting married and we won't have room for you."

"But I need a place 'til school starts. Just 'til school starts," she begged. "Oh, is that cinnamon? Look! Let's go in there!"

She pointed to a bakery with a monstrous pyramid of cinnamon rolls in the window oozing sweet, gooey, buttery goodness like shimmery white lava.

"I…don't have any money," the blonde said, finding her pockets empty.

"I've got some! Don't worry about it! Follow me!"

She trailed the older girl to the door which opened with the tinkle of a little bell. The inside of the shop was warm and homey with two overstuffed chairs set atop a plush rug beside a crackling fire in a fireplace surrounded with bookshelves.

"Isn't it dreamy?" Valda gushed, turning to face a handsome young man in flour-dusted chef whites who offered her a steaming hot chocolate topped with real whipped cream.

_Dreamy._ This is a dream, she reminded herself, realizing now that the interior of the shop resembled a painted illustration from a children's book she still owned featuring _The Night Before Christmas_. I need to get to ArtReal. Something's wrong. Peter is out there, looking for me. If he happens to look in the window- "Stop!" she said, and Valda turned to stare at her. "Oh, who cares about you? I've got to get out of here!"

"Don't you want chocolate?" asked the baker, and he seemed shorter and somehow familiar. "It has real marshmallows melting in it and whipped cream with a peppermint drizzle."

Her favorite. The fire beckoned. Valda sank her teeth into the side of a huge cinnamon bun that made her close her eyes and moan with pleasure.

"I have to go," she insisted uncertainly.

"Where?" asked the boy with the oversized cocoa mugs. "In this weather?"

Snow drifted down in heavy, wet flakes past the storefront window.

"Tell me about New York," said a boy sitting in one of the comfortable looking chairs. "Is it everything you wanted it to be?"

"Jeremy?" she asked. He was her friend from when she'd lived in Montana. "How did you get here?"

"Just flew in. To see you."

"Really?" she asked, accepting a mug from Peter who went to fetch her a fresh from the oven cinnamon roll.

"I really miss you, Macy," he admitted, blushing behind his thick eyeglasses.

They had been best friends, although she'd never developed a crush on him. She had always wondered if he'd ever had one on her.


	34. Chapter 34

34

Geoff asked one of the assistants, "What happens if we begin feeding her imagery, too?"

The young man blinked. "Well, seeing as how Two thirty-one's attention is already divided, it might create too much stimulus and throw the whole procedure."

"But I was told he wouldn't feel or dream the same things she would."

"Well, that's true but-"

"I can't put myself in her dreams," he told them, "but you have the imagery and whatnot used to create Quasars."

"It would take a while to gather the data we'd require to add you to-"

"Not _me_. One of the Quasar Force Officers."

The assistant said, "You want to program your daughter to obey Officer Perandah? That might reinforce Two thirty-one's-"

"No. I want to introduce Two thirty-one to an authority figure and his indestructible partner."

After Geoff explained himself, the young man left to interrupt Sanders and German. He returned a few minutes later and nodded. "They said to bring her in."


	35. Chapter 35

35

Peter perched on the arm of the chair Macy occupied, holding her chocolate and staring at its surface mottled with remnants of whipped cream and melted marshmallows. The bell attached to the door tinkled and New York's finest swarmed in, dozens of dark blue uniforms filling the small space. "Hey, who's in charge here?" asked a short cop with a round face.

Peter looked ashen. Macy pointed at him.

"Hey, kid. We need eight hundred cinnamon buns, five hundred boxes of assorted doughnuts, and twelve gallons of coffee to go."

He glanced worriedly at Macy and tried to pull her along after him. She managed to slip away from him in the throng and relieve some hapless officer of his sidearm in the process. Swimming through the cops, she soon found herself outdoors and stared at all of the available police cars drawn haphazardly up before the shop. The idea of taking one made her feel like she'd be just a little bit safer, but the thought of theft bothered her and she didn't know how to drive. Instead, she glanced down at the pistol she clutched to her middle and smirked.


	36. Chapter 36

36

Dr. Sanders said, "You think Macy would respond better to imagery of Alex than imagery of you?"

He hated to admit it, but while Macy thought of him as a friend who gave her guidance, he knew she thought of Alex as some kind of larger than life hero. If he appeared in a nightmare with his daughter, he knew she would try to protect him and wasn't likely to allow him to confront the Quasar who held her in thrall. Alex, on the other hand, she would listen to and allow him to do whatever was necessary to eliminate the threat. "She asked about when he dispatched Quasar 200. She seemed to need reassurance that he's not around and not likely to show up any time soon. I think Peter had control of her then. I think he wanted to know what his biggest threat was."

Dr. German joked, "Will he get hazard pay for this when he returns?"

"Clearly Peter's not afraid of Dorreen-"

"And…" Sanders prompted.

"And I have no idea how her mind might process Haines. I think Alex is our best bet." The scientists looked at each other. "Well, it can't make things worse, right?"

Geoffery McKenna was 6'4" and Dr. Sanders closer to 4'6". The scientist took him by the arm. "Best case scenario, Alex saves the day and whatever hero-worship or whatever your daughter may have for him is reinforced. Worst case, Peter manages to vanquish her idea of him and she has a nightmare."

"Anybody can have nightmares," Geoff reminded him.

"What we fear is that if _she_ has a nightmare while they're connected, it could potentially strengthen his hold on her."

"Then we're right back where we started," Geoff sighed, allowing the man to open the door and escort him through it.

Dr. Sanders told him, "What we fear is that instead of returning to his own body, he may sever his tie with it and take up permanent residence within her instead."


	37. Chapter 37

37

Amanda could save me, thought Macy as she stood on a rooftop watching dawn break slowly over the city. She's at ArtReal, though…no. She was with Alex. Somewhere. She scanned the horizon. How would she get to Alex's house from where she was? Not too far from Central Park…closer than ArtReal. He wasn't home, though. She knew he wouldn't be there. She remembered the pastry shop and the fireplace bracketed with bookshelves. Alex had a feature like that in his home. He'd know how to get her out of this. She felt more and more repulsed by the newest Quasar. Why had she ever thought he was fascinating?

In fact he now felt more like an intrusion in her life, a most unwelcome visitor. She felt like he was crowding her out of her own life somehow. Like soon the little McKenna family would be composed of Geoffery, Dorreen, and Peter with no Macy in sight.

Maybe I should run away, she thought. Either I find my own way somehow or my dad finds me and we have a good, long talk about what's going on lately. Suddenly, she wanted to cry. She heard a helicopter, but didn't look up. Heard sirens, but when didn't you hear them in New York?

If I was a Quasar, she thought. I should go to ArtReal. No, they'll just call my dad. She felt overcome with despair. Where can I go that Peter can't find me? She thought she heard him call her name and sharp fear made her remember burrowing under snow in winter, building shelters using fallen trees and sitting there or lying there quietly, staring up at the falling snowflakes, clouds, or stars alone but for the wonder of nature.


	38. Chapter 38

38

"We've eased her back into a more restful state so we can begin the programming," said Sanders.

"Programming?"

He looked up at Geoff. "I meant the inducement stage so we can seed her dreams."

Geoff continued to glare at the other man but said nothing.

"Heart rate slowing, respiration slowing." The scientist told him, "She's still going to get some of the negative sensations we're feeding him. Okay, she's receptive. Enter the dragon."

A corner of Geoff's mouth lifted at that one. He was allowed to experience the sounds and images himself this time, and wore headphones so he'd know what they were feeding into his daughter's brain. High-quality images of Alex's face came into view and then faded out again. Soft colors and fireworks-like explosions emerging from darkness swirled and moved like kaleidoscopes. Soft music in certain pitches was played and the entire display was very lulling, very hypnotic. Geoff saw footage of Alex shooting and running and flashing his badge, heard his distinctive deep, gravelly voice with its Brooklyn bite. He smiled to himself as he thought yeah, he's still alive somewhere. He and Amanda, loose in the galaxy. He recalled when he'd first seen the guy in Montana after Amanda had abandoned him after an alien encounter in Canada. The guy liked to wear an open trench coat with a pinch-front fedora, making one think he was in the wrong era. He thought of his rugged features—the dark blue eyes that always seemed so mistrustful, his high, strong cheekbones, the broken nose, and the squared-off jaw with a cleft in his chin. Alex was a big guy, although Geoff topped him by three inches. He had broad shoulders and a powerful build like he had a background in weightlifting.

"Geoff?"

"Huhm?"

Sanders chuckled and reached for the left earphone. "Thought we lost you."

"What?" he pulled the headphones off.

"I was talking to you and I said your name three times before you even blinked."

"Whoa," said McKenna, pushing the headphones away.

"Works well, doesn't it? Did you know how susceptible you are to hypnotic suggestion?"

"Uh, no….."

Dr. German chuckled from his other side. "You want to sign a contract that allows us to Quasar you in the event that you're ever permanently incapacitated?"

McKenna was embarrassed and said nothing.

Sanders repeated, "He should be part of her dreams now. As to what role he'll play, well, that we cannot control."

Geoff sighed and patiently waited to see what would happen next.

"Heart rate and respiration increasing in subject number two," Dr. German mentioned.


	39. Chapter 39

39

"It's hard to hide when you leave footprints in the snow."

Macy couldn't believe what she'd just heard. She poked her head out of the snow fort she'd constructed alongside the thick trunk of a fallen oak and visibly exhaled something between laughter and an exclamation of joy. She scrambled through the lower portion of the hastily constructed wall, kicking snow before her, arms wide. The man in the trench coat bent with his arms open and wrapped them around her and lifted when she collided with him.

"Alex! Alex!" she said, tears blurring her vision. "You're back! I knew you'd come for me!"

He laughed and kissed her cheek before he set her down. "Look at you! Look at how tall you are!"

She hated when adults felt they had to point that out to her. "Oh God, I missed you!"

He reached down to cup her chin and smiled. "It's okay. I'm here now." He looked around. "What's going on here? Why are you hiding?"

She seized his arm. "Are you really here, Alex? Like you were before? When those people messed with my brain and you used your psychic powers to help me wake up again?"

"Psychic powers?" he laughed. "I'm just telepathic, Macy. I don't really have any kind of powers."

She remembered, "it was Amanda who helped you. She helped bring me out of the darkness. Is she here with you, too? Have you come back to save me?"

"We're here," he assured her, and then she finally saw Amanda standing by some birch trees, a deep burgundy cloak over her head and shoulders.

The girl was ecstatic. "Then let's go get him! I need to get out of here!"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," the man said. "Get who?"

"They made another Double A Quasar and his name is Peter and he's making me do things and think things and, and…and…."

"So you retreated here. Some place he doesn't know about. And you withdrew."

She nodded.

"You're submitting to his will. You've got to fight him to keep control."

"I can't," she said, her voice cracking and wet. "He confuses me…I'm never sure what's really real…."

He looked over at his own Double A who looked bored. "We got this. You're gonna be fine. But, we'll need your help, okay?"

That worried her. The further she withdrew from the Quasar's influence, the safer she felt. "Okay."

"Amanda," he said sternly. "Home."

The white snow was nothing more than white carpeting and white furniture. They stood in their respective places in Alex's living room. The next breath Macy took was a lot warmer than the last and she coughed once.

"Where's the last place you saw him?" Alex asked her, gesturing for her to have a seat on the couch.

"Uh…there was a bakery…full of cops."

One eyebrow rose. "Was he being arrested?"

"No. He worked there. And suddenly all these policemen were pouring in and I was able to get away."

"He's been trailing you?"

"Yeah. He keeps asking me what I want, where I want to go." She recalled standing before a mirror with Alex and his lips on her throat.

"Oh, whoa!" he blurted, and her eyes went wide with fear. That's right, he's a mind-reader! He wiped a strand of hair from his left temple and shook his hands agitatedly. "Okay, first thing, calm down. You know I can read your thoughts, and people think inappropriate things all the time. It's all right," he assured her. "I know he put that thought there. He's trying to make you easier to control by sending you happy thoughts."

"Happy thoughts."

"If you're relaxed and happy you're not putting up resistance to him. If he does something that makes you feel good, you're going to be a lot more receptive to his will."

"But-"

He put a finger to his lips and shook his head. "It doesn't matter. Don't let it worry you."

She became suspicious, then afraid because he knew it.

"I'm not him in disguise, Macy. You don't have to trust me, but I hope you'll help me when I need you to."

She felt bad about being suspicious. Suddenly she needed the comforting of her father, but worried that if he suddenly appeared, it would just be Peter in disguise. "I'm sorry."

"None of this is your fault," he said, withdrawing his handgun from the holster beneath his arm and racking it. "What can you tell us about him?"

"He looks like a little boy. Well, about my age, and he's…well, he's pretty. I don't know how else to say that."

"What about his abilities?"

"Oh, he's not as powerful as Amanda," she said, looking at the girl who reclined in a nearby chair, the burgundy cloak long gone. "But, I never saw how he handles weapons or fighting or anything."

"He's likely at least as powerful as she is," the big guy corrected. "But he won't have the exact same abilities."

"But I saw them test him. He's not as fast or as strong-"

He jerked a thumb toward 169. "I'm still learning new things about her, kid. Sometimes in your dreams you can soar to the moon and beyond. Other times it's a struggle to levitate yourself a few inches off the ground."

She remembered her earlier lack of control while trying to escape him. "Or he was faking it."

"Could be. I guess Amanda and I will have to give him a real test. This might turn out fun."


	40. Chapter 40

40

Geoff watched the colored images of their brains begin to fluctuate wildly. "What's going on? Is it working?"

Sanders told him, "She's very focused right now, so her confidence is growing, and she's not dreaming the same thing that he is. She's still tense, but more relaxed than she was. He's losing his hold on her. My guess is that he's going to try and track her down."

"I hope her faith in him is strong," Geoff murmured, clenching his fists. "Alex, I mean. I wish there was some way we could have introduced Amanda, too."

"There's a good chance that if she's dreaming of him, then she's dreaming of Amanda also."

He set his elbows on the counter and lowered his head into his hands. "Do we know of any other psychics? Ones as strong as Alex?"

Sanders patted his shoulder. "We'll get her out of this. Why don't you go get something to eat?"

"I have a headache," he admitted.

"We'll let you know if anything changes."

He rose and made his way toward the exit, pausing to look down at his daughter's face, wishing he could touch her, tell her everything would be all right, and hold her. Growing emotional, he left quickly and as quietly as possible, stunned to see his fiancée in the hallway, staring at him, arms across her chest. "Hey, Dory," he said.

She grabbed his arm and started walking with him. "Let's talk."

"Did you get enough rest?"

"Probably not. Did you get my gun?"

He glanced around to make certain they were alone. "I have it."

"You were going to try to kill that Quasar."

"I still might."

Snorting, she shook her head. "Bullets went through him, Geoff. He acted surprised like he'd felt some slight sensation, and then there'd be a tear in his clothes, and the next time you looked even that was gone."

"Elevator," he sighed. "But, he was whole then. His attention, his power, whatever it is that shadow part of him represents was with him and it isn't now."

"We never had this conversation," she said, stepping into the elevator with him.

He smiled. "Can I buy you lunch?"

She punched him in the arm.


	41. Chapter 41

41

She rode in the passenger seat while Alex drove, looking for bakeries. She didn't know where Amanda was and didn't ask; one of her abilities enabled her to ensconce herself entirely within a solid, and sometimes the solid was Alex.

"What's with all the helicopters?"

She scooted in her seat in an effort to try and see them. "I dunno."

"Maybe the National Guard does," he said, changing lanes behind a police car and tailing it.

Helicopters, police cars, tanks, Humvees, personnel carriers, vans and other vehicles were converging around Midtown Manhattan. "Is this me trying to fight him off?"

"I think this is more than that. I don't believe you could successfully throw off his influence on your own."

She grew afraid and he reached to take hold of her left hand for a reassuring squeeze. God, it was nice to have someone around who knew exactly how you felt without having to explain yourself.

They parked and Alex pulled her between a couple of buildings to where onlookers were gathering. He pushed through the crowd, towing her after him until they were several blocks away. She liked the way her hand almost disappeared into his. She felt calmer than she thought she could, then remembered that Amanda's touch was calming and made a person sleepy. The whole Amanda hiding inside of Alex thing made her uneasy.

"Okay," he said, looking up at the tops of the tall structures around them. "Up, up, and away." He drew her to him beneath his right arm and she wrapped herself about his waist and leg, surprised to see 169 on his other side. They lifted free of asphalt and rose steadily, landing lightly upon the nearest roof. Alex released them and they gazed over toward where most of the activity lay.

"James," said Macy, "Quasar 200. How did you get rid of him?"

"Standard Quasars are a person's dream self freed from their physical housing to interact in the waking realm."

"Like the ghost of someone sleeping," she said.

He nodded. "They're not difficult to get rid of. I dispatched quite a few of my old partners without much trouble at all. The physical Double A Quasar's bonds are strengthened to the point that their bodies can do everything they can in their dreams. So, remove the ghost-like portion and you can destroy what's left."

"Peter has a…almost a separate Quasar already," she told him. "Like a shadow…like what you see around Amanda."

He glanced toward the older teen. "Her aura or whatever the heck it is?"

"But his does things for him. When you ask him to move stuff with his mind, it's the shadow that goes and does it for him."

"Weird."

She nodded.

"It sounds like his Quasaring didn't completely take."

"He's weaker without it."

"Then I'll have to find a way to sever the bond."

As they spoke, something shot up into the air like Superman. One of the helicopters veered off and nearly struck a water tower. Someone in another started shooting at the figure.

"'zat our boy?" asked Alex.

Macy nodded and moved a little behind him.

"Amanda—get him!"

Peter was rising higher, slowing to survey the area, ignoring the bullets whizzing past him and through him when something struck him like a cannonball and sped in a great arc with him. He looked down to see arms wrapped about his chest. "Finally braved up enough to try and take me, Macy?" He jerked and spasmed to throw off her trajectory, but could not break the vice-like grip.

They seemed to be heading toward a lone figure on a rooftop. The boy made out the silhouette of a man from the 1940s or 50s, dressed like a detective or a federal agent or something. He used his ability to alter his appearance to grow larger and heavier until the hands around him no longer met, and then he squirmed until he fell, landing hard near the edge of the same rooftop. Before he could pick himself up, a set of boots filled his vision, and then one vanished for a moment before returning for a sudden and extreme close-up.

The kick lifted him completely airborne, his head nearly back between his shoulder blades as he performed an impromptu backflip, landing hard on his back a few yards away. His world went fuzzy for a moment from the blow, and then he lifted himself to find the other Quasar standing over him.

"You're the one they call Amanda."

She stared at him, making movements with her hands that would've sounded like knuckles cracking if she was a regular person.

"You're actually rather pretty," he told her, easing up into a sitting position. "Why do you allow these brutes to enslave you? You can do anything, go anywhere. Why aren't you free?"

She stepped toward him and he performed a backward roll, popping up from his feet into the air. She launched herself at him as he twisted and dove over the edge, following the side of the building, thinking he could outmaneuver her. He planned to veer off at the last second before striking asphalt to see if she'd survive, and if so, resume pursuit, when an unexpected pair of arms snatched him through a window into an apartment and used his momentum to toss him against a lit stove.

Pots clattered and boiling water and hot tomato sauce flew. Peter struggled until he hit the floor and then he bared his teeth and went after the girl, passing through her like she was an illusion to crash face-first into the refrigerator.

People were yelling and screaming in the next room. Peter grabbed a drawer and yanked it free, flinging it and its contents at her. The stuff passed through her again. With a grin he seized a second drawer and swung it as he spun. He released it with the same result, and then continued his rotation so that his fist entered the girl's face a moment later.

But Amanda only watched him passively whirl through her and trip over the junk on the floor. She grabbed him again and flew through the window, banging his elbow and both shins on the way out. He increased his size again and she released him, but he had no control over his flight. She escorted him to her partner, the Quasar-slayer, and he finally saw Macy trying to hide behind the guy.

"What do you offer her?" he screamed, still held in some telekinetic force. "She is a goddess! And how do you pay her homage? By treating her like a dog?"

Alex approached him calmly, withdrew his Walther from the holster under his arm, lowered it to the point between Two thirty-one's eyebrows and pulled the trigger.

The Quasar flopped like a fish, uttering a terrible shriek of horror until he lay panting, fingering his forehead and finding nothing amiss. "Ha!" he chortled triumphantly.

"Keep playing with him, kid, I gotta think," he told 169.

Amanda bent to grab a handful of his shirt, and then flew off with him again.


	42. Chapter 42

42

Geoff was too nervous to eat much. He had two tequila lime chicken tacos and another white tea. Dorreen opted for a grilled chicken Caesar salad and a Coke. "If you kill Peter, does his shadow stay with Macy, or does it die, too?"

He said, "I've been thinking about this. It seems likely that it would make a complete separation between his physical and phantasmal selves-"

She shook her head. "You're basing this on how Alex offed James. One of James' abilities was to jinx an area so that pretty much anything anyone tried within it would fail. He thwarted Alex's attempts to capture him, but also left himself vulnerable to the same bad luck. A big microwave fell from a stack of boxes and crushed his head, freeing the Standard Quasar from his body. Then Alex shone a flashlight in his face and he dissipated like a mist."

"The two halves are already separate," he said, using his hands for emphasis. Dory saw how his eyes blazed and he seemed to be addressing some invisible audience instead of her. "That's why the physical shell is weak. I think I can destroy it, and then we only have to deal with the part that's possessing Macy."

"You can't destroy her," Dory said, and Geoff seemed to snap back to himself with a funny look on his face. "So how do you plan to unpossess her?"

"Macy is not a Quasar."

"Yeah," said Dory, scratching her head. "We're just stating facts now."

"If we can get him to leave her, then we can work on separating the two parts of him again."

"Can I have my gun back?"

He sighed. She felt something tap her leg and reached under the table to take it. "I'm sorry."

"Y'know, Quasars come and go, but daughters are forever."

He smiled grimly at her.

"I'll take him out myself if I get the chance, but we've got to release his hold on her first."

"I can't see any other way," he admitted.

She smiled bravely at him.

"What's just so disturbing is knowing he's someone else's kid."

"_Was_," his fiancée corrected. "They're not truly human anymore. Like vampires or werewolves or zombies. Sometimes you've just gotta shoot 'em in the head."

"More like Frankenstein's monster," he said. "Created in a laboratory…." He trailed off and his focus turned inward again.

"What is it?" she asked him, touching his wrist. "Like _Frankenstein_? Did that make you think of something?"

He grinned. "Just messing with you. I wish it had given me an idea."

"Oh, you're gonna be loads of fun for the rest of my life," she told him.

"Danger and fun," he told her. "I'm like a roller-coaster with a broken safety bar, baby."


	43. Chapter 43

43

The guardsmen and the cops migrated toward the disturbance and the disturbance made its way toward them. Peter saw that Amanda held nothing back. She was as single-minded as an enraged water buffalo, and yet he couldn't quite get over the feeling she was toying with him. With her milk-pale skin, large eyes and ink-black hair, she reminded him of some kind of anime character, quiet, beautiful, and deadly. She never made a sound, never grunted, cried out, or spoke a word to him. He kept imagining her with astonishingly long ribbons trailing from her hair and a too-short pleated skirt, but her hair managed to flow and whip about her like she was under water, never really getting in her eyes, and she seemed to prefer very tight pants or leggings.

He tried every trick at his disposal, turning the world black and white—which he wasn't certain anyone else noticed aside from him—hurling police cars at her, trying to alter his looks enough to escape into the crowds. He manifested fighter jets and rocket launchers, a flamethrower, and something that shot whirling ninja stars at her like a machine gun, but the other Quasar remained unfazed. In the meantime his confidence flagged and his fears grew, and he had no idea he owed these feelings of frustration and terror to some lab equipment hooked up to his body.

"We're getting to him," Alex assured Macy, and he smiled at her, then reached to take her hand as they watched from a rooftop. Her feelings for him were stronger than ever and because she knew he was aware of what she was feeling, she became ashamed. She was considering withdrawing her hand from his when he turned her way again, winked at her, and only squeezed her hand harder. The thrill that coursed through her made her eyes close and all she could think of was the warmth and presence of his reassuring touch.

"Can Amanda make herself big? Like huge? Like Godzilla-huge?"

"We're in _your_ mind, Macy. She can do absolutely anything you want her to."

And so Amanda Beverly McKenna gazed down at the chaos below and wondered how she would get word to Amanda the Quasar to grow big, really big, and as she willed it they watched the pale teenager with the comic-book blue black hair suddenly alter her shape and grow.

Some uniformed men had managed to shoot heavy nets over Peter. In his rage, he watched them alight and fall to burning pieces around him. Astonished by his own ability, he stared at his hands as points of sparkling light crackled and spiraled about one another, erupting as gouts of flame from his palms when he willed it. _"Eat pixie dust!" _he screamed, laughing, and pirouetted with his palms out, swirling great swaths of orange flame outward like a mini-galaxy of death, immolating those closest to him, setting people and objects alight farther out. Reveling in his power, he slowly lifted skyward, spewing flame and heat that warped his view everywhere he looked. _"Think happy thoughts!"_ he yelled, and noticed a shadow falling over him. He turned and had no idea what he was looking at. It was massive with scales and teeth and because he was thinking of the story of _Peter Pan_, he imagined, just for a second, that it was that ridiculous crocodile. He swung his hand up between it and himself and a white hot light blasted from his palms, so bright he had to turn his face away and squint to see it, little worms of blue-white glow escaping and vanishing before they got too far. The lizard-like thing emitted a horrendous, low, rattling, rasping roar. White heat began to incinerate the massive three-toed foot it had meant to crush the boy with. Peter ran closer to it, hoping to cremate it entirely, and the injured creature swung its burning foot, lost its balance, and enveloped Pete in growing shadow.

"A T-rex?" asked Alex. "I thought for sure you'd go for the Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man."

"Oh, yeah. I didn't think of that. But fire toasted him and made him all melty—or, at least the crossed proton streams did. Daddy went on a paleontological dig once when he was younger. When I thought big, I was thinking _T-rex_ big."

The tall man with the dark blue eyes leaned on the rooftop ledge and smiled over his shoulder at her. "I knew you could do it."

"Is she alright?" the girl asked, peering over the low wall.

"She's behind you," chuckled the guy.

Quasar One sixty-nine set a hand on Macy's shoulder and looked past her at the fallen burning dinosaur far below. "Smells like barbecue," she mentioned.

"I thought you were the T-rex."

The older teen shrugged. "Just as long as I had to be," she replied.


	44. Chapter 44

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Back in reality, the scientists were aware of the moment the Quasar's strength seemed to peak, and then snuffed out abruptly. Macy's thought patterns no longer matched those of Peter's, so they knew she was free of his hold. At that moment Dr. Halbot injected the figure on the table before her with a syringe full of Nembutal. She did it discreetly in near-darkness and watched the body change. The subject dubbed "Peter" grew older, longer, hairier, and out of shape. He was reverting back to his original form. When his heart stopped, the lights were brought up and those in attendance gasped at the man who lay before them: nearly bald but for a few wispy pale hairs, with a doughy, stubbled face, a thick neck and pudgy body. His eyes flicked open and darted wildly about. A white-hot glow began to coalesce over his chest and he lurched and thrashed as his shadow-half, now severed from him, attempted to reconcile itself with its physical housing in order to keep him alive. Dr. Halbot whipped out a penlight and turned it on the glowing orb. It followed the beam up toward her hand, shrank, and appeared to vanish. She inhaled deeply and closed her eyes for a moment.

"Was that the Standard Q? Did you get it?" asked Sanders.

She nodded, drew her lips in to wet them, then opened her eyes and told them, "He's gone."


	45. Chapter 45

45

They carted the stranger's corpse out before locating Geoff. He stood over his daughter while they removed any non-essential equipment, and was the first thing she saw when she opened her eyes. Her mouth moved, but no sound emerged as she sat up to put her arms around him. "I had this like, really, really, really, really vivid dream!"

He chuckled as he held her. "It's okay, now. Everything's all right. It's all over."

She looked fretfully about the room. "Where's Peter?"

"He's gone, Macy. He was…defective. They had to…retire him."

She looked up at him uncertainly. "You mean, like in _Blade Runner_?"

"Something like that. Wait—when did you see _Blade Runner_?"

"Valda brought it over one day."

"Okay, she's gone from our lives, too."

Macy grinned, and then twisted for another look around. "Where's Alex? And Amanda?" She looked into her father's eyes and grew concerned. "He's back, isn't he? They're here? They helped me. Like before when I was in a coma."

"No, sweetie. He's not here. We still haven't heard any news on him since he left for space."

"But, he was with me," she insisted, and she looked at her right hand, recalling the warmth of the larger one that had held it. "It was a psychic thing. He came to save me. Him and Amanda. Just like last time."

Geoff shook his head, and then tapped his forehead. "That was all you. Every bit of it. I told you before that when you dream, it's you playing every role."

Her eyes welled. "But he _was _there! He saved me! Amanda turned into a T-rex and she squished Peter."

"A T-rex?" he laughed. "Wow. That would be terrifying!"

Tears glistened trails down her cheeks. "But I saw them, I felt like it was real. I _know_ they were there."

"I'm afraid not, kiddo. Everything that happened in your dream was all you. And you are the very first person to successfully defeat a Double A Quasar ever!"

She frowned. "Alex killed one."

"Yes, but he used a microwave and a flashlight. You did it all with your mind."

She pondered that while he fished a paper napkin from a pocket so she could dry her tears.


	46. Chapter 46

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Dory decided to stay the night with the handsome former veterinarian and his adopted daughter. They got a pu-pu platter for four and mushu chicken and divided it amongst themselves. Macy kept apologizing to Dory for destroying her Quasar and Dorreen kept smiling and telling her it was all right, they'd eventually make another one.

Geoff made up a place for Dory on the couch since she refused to let him take it so she could have his bed. He kissed her bandaged wrist and patted her on the head, to which she responded, "Arf! Arf!"

When he went to check on Macy, she was already fast asleep, her dream journal open on the pillow beside her, pen on the bed near her fingers. He respected her privacy, and she had never given him reason enough to not trust her, but he flipped the book back open after closing it with his thumb marking the last entry, and looked at what she had written. There was a cartoonish drawing of a face with very long black hair flowing around it, and beneath this figure he recognized as Quasar 169, she had written, "My hero," followed by a tiny silhouette of a T-rex-like dinosaur. He smiled and was about to close it again when he hesitated, still concerned about her.

The scientists had told him that if Macy already thought well of Alexander, then the imagery they had introduced into her head might enhance her feelings for him, possibly resulting in some sort of hero worship, or, God forbid, an actual crush. He flipped through some of the older entries and saw that while she did not dream of him often, there remained a significant number of nights when she had, and some of what he laid his eyes on…well, he rather wished he hadn't.

Maybe he won't come back, he thought, then felt bad about thinking that. Alex was a good guy…who happened to have a teenaged partner programmed to have a crush on him so she'd be more apt to cooperate with him…and who happened to be psychic enough to have problems differentiating between his genuine feelings for her and her artificial feelings for him. That didn't make him a bad person; in fact, it was known that Amanda had to've been at least eighteen to sign the contract that allowed ArtReal to turn her into Quasar…and that had been five years past. It didn't mean he would confuse his feelings for Macy with her possible crush on him….

And every day that passed and no news came back regarding his well-being and whereabouts, the odds of his returning to Earth at all were fading away.

But Macy was a good kid. What teen hadn't had a crush on an older person like a celebrity or something? It happened, and eventually, when the affection was never returned, it too simply faded away. He recalled his own youthful crushes on Dawn Wells, Elizabeth Montgomery, and Barbara Eden. It was no big deal. It would be all right. He was just jumpy after he'd almost lost her to the clutches of an unstable Quasar.

He left the book open on her pillow and turned out the light. Then he retired to his own room to read a little before he fell asleep.


	47. Chapter 47

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Macy woke when she heard a thud. Her heart raced as she forbade herself to breathe. The lamp on the nightstand beside her bed shed a soft yellow glow. She listened for several heartbeats and heard nothing, but it was a while before she even dared to move.

When she finally sat up, she saw her dream journal on the floor and leaned far over to pick it up. She found the pen beneath the covers beside her and clipped it to the book. A weak champagne-colored glow filtered between tree leaves from the nearest streetlight. Her clock said it was two thirty-one, and her heart seemed to leap into her throat and stick there, throbbing.

It's nothing, it's nothing, it's nothing, she told herself, eyes closed. When she opened them again she thought it would be later, but her clock still insisted it was two thirty-one. She pushed a palm to her face and shook her head.

Despite the sleep she'd had all day, she'd been exhausted, likely from stress. She couldn't remember any fresh dreams aside from a general sense of unease. She was also hungry and enjoyed cold Chinese as much as she did cold pizza, so she hopped out of bed and crept down the hall as quietly as she could, pausing briefly by her father's door to listen to his breathing, and again in the entranceway to the living room to see Dory fast asleep.

For some reason she found herself staring at the television set, an ominous rectangle of black in the dark, and it occurred to her there were some VHS tapes and DVDs she wanted to get rid of. She turned on the light and completed her quest as quietly as possible so as not to wake the sleeping Quasar Force Officer. She felt bad that Dory no longer had a partner and that she'd been beaten up on the job, but neither had actually been her fault. Before she departed the living room, she lightly kissed the older woman's forehead.

Back in her own room she rummaged through a box of old books until she found the one by J.M. Barrie and a nicely illustrated Disney condensed version and an old 45 you played along with a picture book. One last glance around and she grabbed a pair of Tinkerbell socks, a Tinkerbell nightshirt, some Tinkerbell stationary from the drawer of her nightstand, and a fluff and tinsel-topped Tinkerbell pen.

Carrying everything outside, she set it all on the barbecue grill, doused it with half a bottle of lighter fluid, and then struck a wooden match. "Eat pixie dust," she intoned before dropping the flame on all of the _Peter Pan_ stuff she'd been able to find. It lit instantly, bathing her in a warm, dark golden glow. She watched until she was satisfied it would all be gone in the blaze, then drew a lawn chair over and lay back on it, hands laced over her belly, gazing up at the star-strewn sky. "Think happy thoughts," said Macy, and closed her eyes and wished all of the negativity she'd experienced would waft away like so much oily black acrid smoke dissipating into shadow.


End file.
